The Connie-Ronnie Switcheroo
by MrTyeDye
Summary: A device borrowed from one of Lisa's colleagues allows Lincoln and Ronnie Anne to take a look at an alternate timeline. The timeline looks almost identical to their own, with the exception of one detail; Ronnie Anne has switched places with Connie Maheswaran of Beach City. How will the brash bully and the bashful bookworm adapt to each others' universes? Cover by JFMStudios!
1. Introduction to Multiverse Theory

Lincoln lay sprawled out on his bed, staring catatonically at his ceiling while the ticking of his Muscle Fish clock echoed throughout his room. On the other side of the bed lay his bully-turned-quasi-girlfriend Ronnie Anne, who looked just as lethargic. Every now and then, they'd hit that lull in their weekend hangout sessions, when they ran out of things to do or talk about but they still had an hour or two before her big brother Bobby came by to pick her up.

It was the most curious thing; at the beginning of the school year, Ronnie Anne's face was one that struck fear into Lincoln's heart whenever he saw it. The very sound of her name was enough to send him scrambling away, out of fear of getting pantsed or wedgied or shoved into a locker. And yet, here she was, inches away from him, in his private sanctuary, and he could barely muster the willpower to even sit up. If nothing else, it was a testament to how much things had changed.

With the rest of his options exhausted, Lincoln just spouted out the first thought that came to his head.

"You know, it's kind of weird, how things worked out between us."

Ronnie Anne's lazy eyes drifted towards his. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, Lori's with Bobby, and now I'm with you. It's funny."

"Funny how?"

"Like, we're two pairs of siblings who just happened to be perfect for each other. It's such a weird coincidence."

Ronnie Anne snickered. "Perfect?" she asked. "Kind of pushing it there, Lame-O. But I get what you're saying. Too convenient to be just an accident, right?"

"Exactly," said Lincoln. "It's almost like this whole thing was decided by fate."

"That's a ridiculous idea," called a nasally voice from Lincoln's doorway. The two of them looked up- or rather, down- to see Lincoln's hyper-intelligent younger sister, Lisa, standing in the doorway with her tiny arms folded across her chest.

 _I knew I should have shut that door_ , thought Lincoln.

"What you just described was entirely a coincidence," Lisa continued. "And if you give me a moment to fetch something from my room, I'll gladly explain how."

"Do we have a choice?" groaned Lincoln.

"No," Lisa said flatly, pivoting around and shuffling back to her room.

A minute later, Lisa shuffled back into Lincoln's room holding a pair of metallic goggles with a leather strap attached. Lincoln instinctively reached out towards the shiny, futuristic device, only for Lisa to snatch it away.

"Not so fast," she chided. "Before I tell you what this is, there are a few concepts I have to explain first. How familiar are the two of you with multiverse theory?"

After receiving blank, empty stares from Lincoln and Ronnie Anne, Lisa continued.

"We're accustomed to thinking of time as linear: a simple, continuous line of cause and effect. But it isn't that way at all. You see, at countless points during your life, you've been forced to make decisions; you've arrived at forks in the road, and you've had to choose to go either left or right. But every time you make that choice, there are two different timelines that spawn from that point. If you choose to go left, there will be an alternate timeline in which you chose to go right, and vice versa. When you factor in all the actions we've taken and the decisions we've made over the course of human history, there are a near-infinite number of timelines based on infinite possibilities."

Lisa took a moment to push up her glasses and straighten out her turtleneck before continuing. "To be blunt, the fact that you two are together is little more than a cosmic accident. There exist thousands, if not _millions_ of other timelines in which you two never even crossed paths."

Ronnie Anne scowled at Lisa. "Gosh, thanks for telling us that," she said, her voice dripping with scorn. "You've enriched my life so much with that new information."

Lisa kept rambling on, ignoring the sarcastic comment. "What I have here is a multiversal transmitter," she said, holding the goggle headset aloft. "It allows the user to see any one of their alternate lives."

She strapped the goggles around her head and started fiddling with a small lever protruding from the left eyepiece. "In fact, there's one particular timeline I came across during an afternoon of browsing," she said. "It's nearly identical to our own, with the exception of one detail. In this universe, the Santiagos have switched places entirely with a family from a beachfront town on the East Coast."

Lincoln laughed in disbelief. He couldn't understand how Lisa could speak about such a groundbreaking invention in a tone so cavalier.

"Lisa, you... you're really something else."

"Thank you, but I cannot take credit for this invention in particular," she said as she continued to flick the lever. "I borrowed it from one of my colleagues in the scientific community. He's an ornery curmudgeon who drinks far too much, but his scientific prowess is even greater than mine."

Ronnie Anne's cynical eyes started to widen with intrigue. "How'd you convince him to let you borrow it?" she asked.

Lisa chuckled. "I have my ways," she said. "You should know by now that my logical persuasion skills are second to none."

* * *

 _"I wanna play with your multiverse goggles! I wanna! I WANNA! I wanna, I wanna, I wanna, I wanna-"_

 _"All right, all right!" the scientist growled, in between gulps from his hip flask. "Geez, you really are a *BURP* toddler."_

 _He reached into his lab coat pocket, pulled out the multiverse goggles and shoved them into Lisa's hands._

* * *

"Ah, here it is!"

She took off the multiversal transmitter, climbed up onto Lincoln's bed, and laid it down between him and Ronnie Anne.

"I've pinpointed the exact timeline I was describing earlier," she said. "Would either of you care to have a look?"

Lincoln snapped up the goggles. "Sure!" he said, with a little more enthusiasm than he intended to convey.

Ronnie Anne shot him a dirty look. "What's the hurry?" she demanded. "Want to see how much _better_ your life is without me in it?"

"N-no!" cried Lincoln, skittering away from her and throwing his hands up in front of his face. "I-I just want to see what this other family is like. Besides, aren't you curious to see how _your_ other life goes?"

Ronnie Anne's expression softened. "You know, I kind of am," she said. "And it's not like we have anything better to do, so why not?"

She laid down on the bed, crossed her legs and tucked her hands behind her head. "You can go first, though."

Lincoln gave her a "thanks", sat up, strapped on the goggles, and waited for the fun to begin.

"Let me know when you're done with them," Lisa said as she exited the room.

* * *

 _7:45 a.m._

 _September 14_

 _Royal Woods Academy_

Lincoln squirmed around in his desk, tugging at the tight collar of his button-down shirt. The school didn't enforce a very strict dress code, but Lincoln's parents insisted that he should look "nice" for his first day of Sixth Grade. While he wasn't thrilled, he decided not to put up a fight, assuring himself that tomorrow he could go right back to wearing his usual polo-jeans ensemble.

As he waited for the teacher to arrive, he let his eyes wander around the classroom. Most of the room was populated by returning students that Lincoln recognized from Fourth and Fifth Grade, including Christina, Chandler, Rusty and Zach. To his puzzlement, they were all blithely chatting away about how they spent their summer, showing no sign of worry or even concern about the school year that awaited them. Weren't they at least a _little_ anxious?

While Lincoln wasn't _dreading_ the coming year, he wasn't exactly stoked about it either. Truth be told, he had only the faintest idea of what to expect from Middle School. Not much was written or said about that awkward transitional phase between Elementary School and High School. What was the workload like? Was this the year he'd have to start talking to girls, or did that come later? Would he start having to shave? The more he thought about it, the more questions he had- and the more questions he had, the more his stomach churned.

At the very least, he didn't have to change schools, since Royal Woods Academy covered grades K-12. On top of that, he was lucky enough to be placed into a homeroom class with his lifelong friend, Clyde McBride, so he'd always have someone to confide in if things got too rough.

Clyde, predictably, grabbed a seat right next to Lincoln as soon as he walked into the classroom. Lincoln took solace in the fact that Mr. and Mr. McBride weren't any less strict than Mr. and Mrs. Loud were. In fact, Lincoln got off easy; Clyde was forced into a tie and a belt, and he had to beg his dads to forgo a suit jacket.

The two of them were too anxious to make small talk, so they just exchanged nervous smiles and sympathetic glances, letting each other know that they'd get through this year together, no matter what it took. This continued until 8:00, when the homeroom teacher finally arrived.

"Good morning, class!" called a sunny alto from just beyond the doorway. In hopped a full-bodied lady in her mid-forties, with her scarlet hair done up in a messy, uneven bun. She was wrapped in an emerald sweater that clung uncomfortably tight to her perky figure. "Did you all have a good summer?"

She was met with a chorus of "yeah"s, "mm-hmm"s, and vague, noncommittal grunts.

"Glad to hear it," she said. "In any event, welcome to your first day of Sixth Grade! I'll be your homeroom teacher for the year. You can call me..."

She snatched up a piece of chalk and started scribbling her name on the board. "...Mrs...Johnson!"

Once she was done, she underlined her name with a sharp swipe of the chalk and let the piece fall from her hand onto her front desk. "We've got a lot to cover today!" she announced, with far more enthusiasm than that statement merited. "But first, let's get acquainted with one another, shall we?"

Her eyes began to dart back and forth across the room. "Now, I see a lot of familiar faces here. By a show of hands, who was part of Royal Woods Academy's Fifth Grade class last year?"

Lincoln and Clyde raised their hands, as did the vast majority of the students. The only one who kept her hand down was a slender, bespectacled Indian girl sitting in the back row. A moment later, all of the eyes in the room were on her, causing her to slump deeper into her chair and fold her arms across her chest.

"Ah, a newcomer!" said Mrs. Johnson, paying no heed to the girl's timidity. "Why don't you come to the front of the class and introduce yourself?"

The girl, figuring that she didn't have a choice, dragged herself out of her seat with a sigh and shuffled to the front of the class, keeping her head down the whole way. As she walked, her long, wavy ebony hair fluttered behind her.

"My name is- um..." she muttered, letting her eyes drift off to the side.

"Look at the class, honey," said Mrs. Johnson. "And speak up! I'm sure the back row wants to get to know you, too."

The new girl swallowed hard and forced herself to point her gaze forward. Once she did, she felt the collective stares of the classroom boring into her, causing a light blush to spread across her cheeks.

"My name..." she began, in a voice just barely loud enough to reach the back of the room. "...is... my name is Connie."

"Well, it's a pleasure to meet you, Connie," said Mrs. Johnson. "Now, tell us a little bit about yourself. Where are you from?"

"K...Keystone," said Connie, who still looked borderline terrified.

Behind her glasses shone a quivering pair of wide, chocolatey eyes, that almost looked to be on the verge of tears. Lincoln didn't think much of her at first, but at this point, he was starting to see something amusing- even charming- about her inconsolable shyness.

"Anything else you'd like to share?" asked Mrs. Johnson. "What are some of your interests?"

"I...um..."

Connie crossed her arms and started shrinking away from the class, averting their gaze. "I-I like reading?"

"Oh, wonderful!" exclaimed Mrs. Johnson. "You'll be doing plenty of that this year, I can assure you."

The teacher's remark elicited some scattered groans throughout the classroom, which she just ignored.

"Now, is there anything else you'd like to tell us, Connie?"

Connie shook her head vigorously, causing her raven locks to swish back and forth.

"Well, all right then. Go ahead and take your seat."

With a tiny wisp of a sigh, Connie walked back to her seat- and Lincoln's eyes followed her the whole way.

"She's cute, isn't she?" Lincoln whispered to Clyde.

"Don't ask me, man," Clyde whispered back. "You know my heart belongs to Lori."

Lincoln groaned. "Come on, Clyde. You should know by now that that's never going to happen."

"Oh, ye of little faith."

After Connie sat back down, Mrs. Johnson had each of the other students stand up and introduce themselves- partially as a formality, and partially to get Connie acquainted with them. Every student was instructed to state their name, their favorite subject and one interesting thing they did over the summer. Throughout the whole exercise, all Connie could do was stare down at her desk- and all Lincoln could do was stare at Connie. When it was Lincoln's turn to stand up and introduce himself, he purposefully raised his voice, in the hopes that it would provoke her to look up at him. Sadly, it did not.

The following thirty minutes had Mrs. Johnson rambling on about the class's expectations, but Lincoln tuned most of it out. For the rest of that period, Connie dominated his thoughts. To make things worse, he couldn't even bring himself to approach her, even though he had several opportunities to do so. He was paralyzed by the fear that he'd either make himself look like a doofus or horribly offend her to the point of tears.

He briefly entertained the idea of asking one of his sisters for advice, but he knew all too well how the Loud household worked. If he let one of them get involved, then before long, _all_ of them would get involved. As far as he knew, he had two choices; either go the rest of the year with an unresolved, unrequited crush, or face the "Sisternado" head-on.

* * *

"My turn, my turn!"

Lincoln's vision was swiftly interrupted when Ronnie Anne yanked the goggles off his head, sending his powdery white hair askew, and strapped them around her own. As the goggles recalibrated, she waited with bated breath for her new adventures to unfold...

* * *

 _2:30 p.m._

 _July 20_

 _Beach City_

Ronnie Anne picked up a stone off the beach and chucked it forward, only to see it _ker-plunk_ into the ocean unceremoniously. Grunting in frustration, she snatched up another one and flung it as hard as she could. Once again, it broke through the surface and sank to the bottom without skipping even once.

This was, more or less, how she was spending most of her summer days since the Santiagos moved to Beach City- just puttering about the bustling beachfront town, doing whatever she felt like. Sometimes she'd be blowing her allowance at the Funland Arcade, sometimes she'd be flipping through a book at the Buddwick Public Library, and sometimes (like today) she'd be hanging around the beach, trying to teach herself how to skip stones.

After the fourth or fifth failed skipping attempt, Ronnie Anne felt a pang of loneliness gnawing at her insides. A month after her family got settled in Beach City, she still hadn't really gotten around to making any new friends. True, there were a few faces she saw on a regular basis, like the creepy pale kid with an onion-shaped head, or the big black guy running the arcade who smiled even when he was angry, but she hadn't really bothered to try to get to know them. Then again, she reasoned, they didn't seem all too eager to get to know _her_ , so she figured it wasn't worth the effort.

Maybe she'd get around to befriending one of them eventually, but for now, all she had was herself. She scooped up another stone and gave it a throw- this one underhanded- only to be met with the exact same result. But just as she was about to storm off and find something else to do, she heard a voice coming from behind.

"Here, let me help you with that!"

Ronnie Anne turned around, and was met with one of the biggest, most adorable smiles she had ever seen. The smile belonged to a wide-eyed, jolly young boy with a big, fluffy mane of curly hair, two dainty little dimples adorning his chubby cheeks, and a plump little belly poking out from beneath his shirt.

"My dad taught me how to do this a few years ago. First, you've gotta find a rock that's flat and smooth. Like this one!"

The boy bent down, picked up a flat, disc-like stone and wrapped his pudgy fingers around the edge.

"Then, you grip it around the edge with your thumb and forefinger."

Ronnie Anne was too bewildered to respond. She had never even _seen_ this boy before, and here he was chatting her up like they were best friends.

"And then, to throw it, you just sort of whip your wrist forward. Like this!"

With a flick of his wrist, the boy sent the stone whirling through the air like a frisbee. It bounced off the surface of the ocean five times before sinking into the depths.

"By the way, I don't think I've ever seen you around here," said the boy. "My name's Steven. What's yours?"

"My... my name? Um... uh..."

 _Come on, Ronnie Anne. Be cool. Be natural. Just say the first thing that comes to your head._

In the midst of her babbling, she noticed a paper bag gripped in Steven's hand, with a picture of a chocolate donut printed on each side.

"I-is that a donut in there?"

"Sure is!" said Steven, holding the bag up to her face. "I almost never go into town without stopping by the Big Donut."

Ronnie Anne narrowed her eyes at him, and her lips curled up into a mischievous smirk. "Well, _that_ explains a lot."

Steven's smile dimmed just a tad. "What do you mean?"

"I mean it explains why you're such a little _pig_!" she sneered, jabbing him in the belly with her pointer finger.

Steven let out a startled gasp and recoiled away from her. "H-hey! That wasn't very nice!" he cried, pulling down his shirt and throwing his hands in front of his stomach.

Ronnie Anne's sneer twisted into a frown. "You know what else isn't nice?" she asked. "Marching up to me and trying to show me up when I never even asked for any help!"

Steven shrunk away from her. "I- but- but I wasn't trying to-"

"Save it, tubby."

Ronnie Anne lifted up her foot and punted the ground, blasting Steven in the face with sand. He let out a yelp and reflexively threw his hands up to shield his eyes, dropping his donut bag in the process. Before he could pick it back up, Ronnie Anne swiped it away from him.

"Now go bother someone else, loser. I don't hang out with lardballs like you."

Right before she turned around to leave him, she noticed that his bottom lip was quivering and both of his eyes were starting to mist up. That image, as fleeting as it was, stayed with her for the entire walk home. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn't push it out of her mind. When she tried helping herself to the donut, every bite she took tasted so searingly bitter that she couldn't bring herself to swallow it.

 _Why do you do this, Ronnie Anne? What's wrong with you?_

* * *

Ronnie Anne's vision was interrupted by a sharp knocking on Lincoln's door.

"Ronnie Anne? Bobby's here to pick you up!" Lori called from just outside the room.

"O-oh," she muttered. "Cool. Here you go."

With a blank, almost trance-like look in her eyes, she took off the goggles and handed them back to Lincoln.

"So what'd you see?" asked Lincoln. "Anything cool?"

After a moment of hesitation, Ronnie gave him an off-kilter smile and forced her hand into a stiff, awkward thumbs-up. "Y-yeah. Cool stuff. I'll tell you tomorrow." She snatched her violet hoodie off of the bed, threw it on and bolted out the door, uttering a hasty "bye" as she left.

Lincoln's forehead wrinkled with concern as he watched her dash down the hall. It wasn't like her to take off so abruptly, without so much as a goodbye hug (or a goodbye noogie, depending on what kind of mood she was in). He wasn't _too_ worried, but he figured it wouldn't hurt to text her after she got home, just to make sure she was okay. So he grabbed his phone and set an alarm to go off in an hour and a half, to remind himself to do so.

Right after the alarm was set, his attention drifted towards the goggles lying on his bed- and once again, Connie dominated his thoughts. Who _was_ she? Why was she so shy? Would she and the other Lincoln become friends? Or _best_ friends? Or _more_ than best friends?

He couldn't take the suspense a moment longer. He _had_ to know.

He snapped up the goggles, strapped them over his eyes, and lay himself down on the bed, ready to be taken back through the multiverse.

 _ **To be continued...**_


	2. Storm Warning?

_3:00 p.m._

 _September 14_

 _Loud Family Residence_

Lincoln tensed up and gritted his teeth as he creaked open the front door, fully expecting to be mobbed by his sisters as soon as he entered. Much to his relief, though, he walked in to find the house uncharacteristically tranquil. As it turned out, most of his sisters were either still at school or upstairs doing homework. The only greeting he received was from his big sister Luna, who was reclined on the couch, strumming out some chords from Blue Oyster Cult's "(Don't Fear) the Reaper".

"What's up, Linc?" she asked. "How was your first day of Middle School?"

"O-oh! Hi, Luna. It was... uh... good. No complaints." He prayed that she wouldn't press him for details, as he struggled to remember a single noteworthy aspect of his day that wasn't Connie- related.

"Glad to hear it, little man," she said. "But keep on your toes. Sixth Grade can be a harsh mistress if you don't treat 'er right."

Lincoln responded to her cryptic warning with a muttered, "Mm-hmm," and started clopping up the stairs. As he made his way to his room, he maintained a brisk, measured walking pace: fast enough to avoid any prolonged contact with his sisters, but not fast enough to arouse suspicion. Acting natural was a skill he came to perfect after years of living with serial meddlers.

Upon making it inside his room, he slammed the door behind him, let his backpack fall off his shoulders, and belly flopped onto his bed, sighing with relief.

 _All right, I'm in the clear_ , he thought. _Now what?_

As he sat up on his bed and propped his back up against his pillow, his attention drifted over towards his unopened backpack, whose girth had nearly doubled from the influx of new textbooks and introductory homework assignments. He briefly entertained the thought of getting started on his homework, but most of it wasn't due until the end of the week. For now, he had more pressing matters to attend to.

He knew that he wanted to approach Connie at some point tomorrow; he just wasn't sure how. He cleared his throat and started rehearsing potential opening lines.

"'Hi, my name is Lincoln!'...'Hi, Connie, remember me? I'm Lincoln!'...'Hey, thought you could use some company. Your name's Connie, right?'...Hi, um, Connie, was it? I'm-"

"What are you doing?" came a raspy, monotonous voice from below Lincoln's bed.

Lincoln's heart rate skyrocketed, and the shock nearly sent him careening off his bed. Just as he was teetering off the edge, he managed to grab hold of one of his bedposts and hoist himself back up with one sharp tug.

"L-Lucy?!" he cried, in between bouts of heavy panting. He clutched his aching chest, feeling his heart hammer away at his ribcage.

"Sorry. I thought you knew I was here."

Out from under Lincoln's bed popped Lucy, his brooding, black-haired little sister. She stood back up and brushed some stray crumbs and dust bunnies off her dress.

"What were you *gasp* doing under my bed anyway?!" he demanded.

"I can't find my poetry diary," she said. "I thought that maybe I left it in your room, so I tried looking under your bed."

Lincoln's breathing slowed down, and his heart rate started to drop towards a healthy level. "I-it's okay, Lucy. Just, you know, ask before you go poking around my room."

"Okay."

An awkward, stony silence passed between them. Lucy continued to stand in the middle of Lincoln's room, silently staring at him, almost as if she was an actress waiting for her cue. After thirty tedious seconds, Lincoln decided to give her one.

"You can go now," he said, pointing towards the door.

Much to his dismay, Lucy responded by planting her feet and crossing her arms: the universal sign for _I'm not budging_.

"Tell me who Connie is."

Lincoln groaned. "You're not going to leave until I tell you, are you?"

"No."

Lincoln let out a defeated sigh and motioned for Lucy to come closer. "Okay, I'll tell you. But you have to _promise_ you won't tell anyone else. Okay?"

"Sure," Lucy said with a shrug. Maintaining her stoic disposition, she climbed up onto Lincoln's bed and crawled closer to him on her hands and knees.

"So, Connie is... um..."

A light blush began to spread across his pale cheeks. "...a girl."

"Mm-hmm..." Lucy hummed with a slight upward inflection, as her lips began to curl up into a tiny hint of a smile.

"A new girl, in my homeroom class," Lincoln continued, sinking deeper into his mattress.

"Go on," said Lucy, creeping closer to Lincoln as her half-smile grew into a conspicuous smirk.

"Well, you see, uh, she's..."

Lincoln's voice dropped to a squeaky little whisper. "...really cute. I like her."

Lucy gasped with joy, prompting Lincoln to tackle her and clamp his hand over her mouth.

"Shhh!" he hissed. "I said I wanted to keep this a secret!"

"S-sorry," said Lucy, her voice trembling with un-Lucy-like excitement. "I'm just... you know, sometimes even a heart as black as mine is capable of... that is, even in the darkest, deepest pits of my soul, I..."

Finally, Lucy just gave up, dropped the facade and gave Lincoln a hug, burying her face in his chest and making unintelligible squealing noises. Lincoln gave off a nervous chuckle, unused to seeing this kind of behavior from his gothic little sister.

"A-all right, Lucy. Take it down a notch."

After a few more seconds of squealing and giggling, Lucy picked herself back up, took a few deep breaths and regained her composure. "O-okay, I'm good," she said, letting a couple more errant giggles escape. "Continue."

"See, the problem is that I'm not really sure how to approach her," Lincoln explained. "She's shy. Like, _really_ shy."

Lucy's girlish smile disappeared, and was usurped by a contemplative frown. "I see," she said, rubbing her chin.

"So how do I do it?" asked Lincoln. "How do I get close to her without scaring her away?"

"Well, first of all, it's a good thing you're coming to me first," said Lucy. "The other sisters don't understand introverts like I do."

Lincoln raised an eyebrow at her. "Intra-what now?"

"Introverts. People who avoid crowds and like to keep to themselves. Like me."

Lincoln's gaze broke away from hers. "O-oh, of course," he muttered. For an eight-year-old, Lucy had quite the robust vocabulary.

"Anyway, you're going to want to approach her when she's alone. She'll be more likely to open up if she's not surrounded by other people."

"Shouldn't be hard," said Lincoln. "Today I saw her eating lunch alone. I could try sitting with her then."

"Perfect," said Lucy. "And when you're talking to her, be natural. Treat her like a friend."

Lincoln hopped off the bed, yanked open his nightstand drawer and whipped out a piece of looseleaf paper and a pencil. "Hold on, lemme write these down."

He planted the paper down onto the nightstand, smoothed it out and scribbled down the following notes:

 _\- Approach her during lunch_

 _\- Be natural_

 _\- Talk to her like a frie-_

Lucy snatched the pencil out of his hand before he could finish.

"I think you're missing the point," she said. "She's a _person,_ not a pop quiz. Just act natural and be yourself."

Lincoln's eyes wandered away from the paper. "Just... be myself?" he asked, scratching the back of his head. Surely it couldn't be that simple.

"Just be yourself," Lucy repeated. "I know it sounds cliché, but it really is the best way to approach her."

She took Lincoln by the hand and beckoned him to look at her. Though he couldn't see her eyes, he felt the intensity of her gaze boring through her thick, black bangs. "And she'll know if you're trying to be someone you're not. We introverts have to spend our whole _lives_ surrounded by fakers, and we know one when we see one."

Lincoln gulped, feeling a shiver run down his spine. "U-understood."

Lucy leaned in closer, eliciting a second, more intense shiver. "You're a good kid, Lincoln," she said, her tone gentle but firm. "You're _smart_. You're _nice_. You're _funny_. Let her see that."

Lincoln sighed and released the tension in his body. "T-thanks," he uttered. "I will."

"Good," said Lucy. Her lips curled into a quasi-smile. "Let me know how it goes tomorrow after school."

With that, she gave Lincoln a quick hug around the neck and started for the door. "And don't worry," she added. "Your secret is safe with me."

After she left, Lincoln fell backwards onto his bed, sighing with relief. The ideal solution was right under his nose the entire time; if there was anyone capable of keeping his affairs a secret, it was Lucy. By coming to her first, he had managed to get the advice he needed _and_ avoid the dreaded Sisternado.

For now, at least.

* * *

*BEEP BEEP BEEP*

Lincoln was snapped out of his vision by the sound of his cell phone's alarm going off right next to his head. He took off the goggles, snatched up his phone, and saw the message "TEXT RONNIE ANNE" emblazoned at the top of the screen. As soon as he saw her name, the sight of her catatonic, trance-like expression right after she took the goggles off flashed before his eyes. That, and the awkward, forced smile she gave him right before she left, and the way she exited the room with her head down and her hands at her sides. Something was definitely the matter.

Lincoln took a deep breath, snapped up his phone and texted Ronnie Anne the following message:

 _hey did u make it home ok?_

It was a bit of an odd question; Ronnie Anne's house wasn't _that_ far from Lincoln's, and Royal Woods wasn't exactly a tough neighborhood. Really, he was just looking for an excuse to text her.

A moment later, his phone vibrated, displaying her response in the center of the screen:

 **yes.**

Lincoln knit his brow. In the medium of texting, a "yes" (in lieu of a "yeah", "ya" or "mm-hmm") was almost always a sign that something was amiss, especially when it was followed by a full stop.

Figuring there was no use in beating around the bush, he responded with the following:

 _ok good. btw is everything alright?_

To which she replied:

 **um yeah i guess. why?**

Lincoln felt a pang of worry growing in the pit of his stomach. That tacked-on "I guess" at the end couldn't have been anything other than a cry for help. There was no _reason_ to include that awkward piece of word cruft, unless she was trying to signal that something was wrong.

 _idk, u were acting kind of weird before u left_

 **oh im just stressed out about school and stuff. no worries**

Lincoln was 90 percent sure that that was a lie, but he'd have to let it slide for now. She'd open up to him when she was good and ready.

 _kk see u tomorrow_

 **yep yep**

Just as Lincoln was about to set his phone back down on his nightstand, he felt it vibrate in his hand again. The following message was on display in the center of the screen.

 **and lincoln?**

Lincoln, feeling the pang in his stomach resurge, texted her back.

 _yeah?_

And Ronnie Anne responded with a text that would dominate his thoughts for the rest of the night:

 **im sorry for being so mean to you.**


	3. The Plot Thickens

The following day, Lincoln and Ronnie Anne worked out a way to share the multiversal goggles. Every week, the goggles would spend three nights at Lincoln's and three nights at Ronnie Anne's, and alternating Sundays. Every day during lunch hour, they'd meet up to exchange the goggles and talk about what they saw in their alternate timelines.

Of course, the goggles didn't technically belong to either of them, so they had to get Lisa's permission first. When she called up the scientist who built the goggles, he responded with a blunt, "Go nuts. I don't even care anymore."

The day after that marked the first "multiverse lunch" (as they would come to call them) between the two Sixth Graders: and truth be told, Lincoln was more than a little tense. He could hardly pay attention in class during the first three periods, as he spent all his energy fretting over whether to tell Ronnie Anne about Connie. On one hand, it wouldn't be fair of her to get jealous over that; after all, the _other_ Lincoln was the one going after Connie, not him. Connie didn't even live anywhere near them in their own timeline. On the other hand, just because it wouldn't be _reasonable_ for her to be jealous doesn't mean that she wouldn't.

Lincoln hoped that he could just hand over the goggles without discussing the matter at all- and at first, it seemed like he would have that option. After taking their seats, the two of them spent the following few minutes quietly choking down the school lunch, which consisted of stale chicken breast, crusty rice pilaf and soggy carrots.

His hopes were dashed, however, about five minutes in, when Ronnie Anne shoved aside her still half-full tray and opened up the conversation.

"So how's your timeline coming along?" she asked.

Fortunately, he had a response prepared. "For the most part, it's pretty much the same as this one," he said. Technically, it wasn't a lie; up until Connie introduced herself, his alternate timeline was point-for-point identical to his current one.

But Ronnie Anne wasn't going to let him off so easily. "Didn't Lisa say that I switched places with some other family?" she asked, narrowing her eyes.

Lincoln started to work up a minor sweat. "Oh, yeah, she did."

"So then who replaced me?"

Lincoln gulped, knowing full well that he was out of options. Ordinarily, he was a pretty good liar, but she was just too sharp for him. If he tried to fib his way out of this, it would only make things worse.

"Well, there's this other girl I meet," he said. "Her name is Connie."

"Mm-hmm," she said. "What's she like?"

Lincoln gulped again, praying that his answer would appease her. "Uh, she's nice, I guess. Really, really shy though. And _definitely_ not as cute as you."

Before she could respond, Lincoln yanked the goggles out of his backpack and shoved them across the table towards her. "A-anyway, that's enough about me!" he said with a nervous guffaw. "How are things on your end?"

Ronnie Anne gave Lincoln a side-eye before scooping up the goggles and filing them into her backpack. "They're okay," she said. "See, in this timeline, my family moves to this beachfront town called Beach City."

"Oh, nice!" said Lincoln. "So do you do a lot of surfing and beach volleyball and stuff?"

"No, not from what I saw," she said. "Besides, I'd look hideous in a bikini," she added, capping off her remark with a dark chuckle.

"Really? I think you'd look pretty hot!" Lincoln blurted out.

Ronnie Anne's thin, narrow eyes burst open in bewilderment. "E-excuse me?!"

Lincoln blushed as soon as he realized what he said, which only intensified once he noticed that a few kids scattered around the cafeteria were staring at them.

"I-I mean good," he squeaked. "You would- you wouldn't look bad. That's all I was trying to say."

Ronnie Anne snickered, rolled her eyes and shook her head in disbelief. "Oh, Lincoln, Lincoln, Lincoln..."

As soon as the other students looked away and went back to their business, she continued with her story. "But no, no swimming or surfing or anything like that. In fact, the only thing that happens is that I meet some kid on the beach named Steven."

"Oh, cool, so you meet someone new too!"

Lincoln leaned over the table towards her. "So what's this Steven kid like?"

"Well, um..."

Ronnie Anne slouched in her seat and started fiddling with her ponytail, raveling and unraveling it around her finger. "There's really not much to say," she said, as her eyes started wandering away from Lincoln's. "He's just, you know, kind of a dork."

"Oh, like me?" Lincoln asked, raising an eyebrow.

Ronnie Anne's eyes snapped back towards his. "No, _you're_ a dweeb," she said with a sneer. "There's a difference."

Lincoln let out a rough, serrated laugh. "A dweeb, huh? Is that above or below a dork?"

"One step above a dork, two steps above a geek, and one step below a nerd," she replied matter-of-factly.

Lincoln laughed again, this one even rougher than the last. "So I'm lower than a nerd, then?"

Ronnie Anne shrugged. "Listen, Lame-O, I don't make the rules. I just call it as I see it."

After a beat, she scooted away from the table, hopped to her feet, slung her backpack over her shoulders and snapped up her still partially full tray. "Anyway, wanna go clear? I can't stomach any more of this dog food."

Lincoln rose from his seat, gave himself a moment to stretch his legs, and picked up his tray, which also still had some food left. "Yeah, let's toss 'em."

As the two of them walked over to the trash bin to dump their trays, Lincoln felt another lingering concern resurface in his mind.

"Hey, Ronnie Anne?"

She stopped in her tracks about a meter away from the trash bin and turned back towards him. "Yeah?"

"I was just wondering; what was with that text message you sent me two nights ago?"

Ronnie Anne knit her brow and loosened her grip on her tray, causing it to wobble a bit. "Which one?"

"The last one," said Lincoln. "You know, the one with the apology."

Ronnie Anne's eyes drooped towards the floor. "I mean, I was kind of a jerk to you when we first met. I just wanted to apologize for that."

"But why now?" asked Lincoln. "All that stuff happened ages ago."

"Well, I... uh..."

She swung away from him, marched up to the trash bin and dumped her tray. "I just felt bad, okay?" she said, her tone getting a little snippy. "Am I not allowed to be sorry?"

"N-no, you're allowed, you're allowed," he said, instinctively backing away from her. "A-apology accepted."

Ronnie Anne looked back over her shoulder and gave him a faint little half-smile. "Thanks."

With that, she gave Lincoln a wave goodbye, tossed her tray into the recycle bin and went on her way. As Lincoln watched her depart, he started feeling that same pang of doubt he felt last Saturday night when she left his house.

He knew that there was still something eating her. He just _knew_ it. He just wished she'd let him in on it.

Ronnie Anne, meanwhile, powered through the remainder of her school day, doing her best to pay attention and keep both Lincoln and Steven out of her thoughts until the final bell. Once that bell rang, though, she had the liberty to fret to her heart's content. After Bobby picked her up, she spent the entirety of the car ride home sitting in stony silence, twiddling her fingers and glancing out the window.

"Hey, Nie-Nie? You feelin' okay?" asked Bobby, catching a glimpse of her sullen face in the rearview mirror.

Ronnie Anne just gave him a sharp nod.

"If you say so," he said, turning his eyes back towards the road. Those were the last words spoken by either of them for the rest of the trip.

As soon as he pulled into the Santiago house driveway, she flung open the car door, dashed in through the front door and bolted up the stairs towards her room. Once she got there, she let her backpack hit the floor with an undignified _thud_ and started rummaging through it. She paid no heed to the swarths of dirty laundry lining her floor, the dirty dishes lingering on her nightstand, or the sheets of unfinished homework buried at the bottom of her bag, though she knew she'd be getting an earful from her mother about all three of those problems later that night.

But for now, what she needed most of all was closure: some form of reassurance that she and Steven would make up.

* * *

 _2:00 p.m._

 _July 21_

 _Beach City_

Ronnie Anne trudged toward the beach, a five-dollar bill crumpled up in her iron-bound fist. She felt so guilty about yesterday's incident that she hardly got any sleep, and she decided that the only way to ease her conscience was to pay Steven back.

Fortunately, she wouldn't have to look for him long. As soon as her sneakers touched the coarse, rough floor of the coast, she heard the faint jingle-jangle of a ukulele off in the distance. She looked across the beach to see the faint outline of that black, fluffy jewfro she recognized from the day before. As she approached, both the music and the image became clearer- and sure enough, it was him. It was Steven, laid out on the sand, blithely strumming away on a ukulele to the accompaniment of the occasional cawing seagull.

As she walked over, she developed a sharp cramp in the pit of her stomach, which only grew sharper as she got closer. As soon as he saw her approaching, he gasped and dropped his pick, and his dreamy smile completely evaporated, leaving an apprehensive frown in its wake. Upon seeing his reaction, the cramp in her stomach intensified.

"I-I'm sorry," she choked out. "Here."

She shoved the bill into Steven's face, with her fist still coiled around it, causing him to flinch and throw up his hands. After a moment, he caught a glimpse of the green note constricted between her fingers.

"Money?"

"Yeah, for the donut. Now take it before I change my mind."

With a gulp and a shudder, Steven grabbed the edge of the note and pried it out of her hand. "T-thanks."

As soon as the money escaped her grip, Ronnie Anne pivoted around 180 degrees and started marching away. She only made it a few meters away before she was stopped cold by a cry of, "Wait!"

She looked over her shoulder to see Steven lumbering towards her, leaving his ukulele behind. The sight of those sad, pleading eyes underscored by those plump, squirrel-like cheeks was almost too much for Ronnie Anne's heart to bear.

"What do you want?" she growled.

"I just... I think we got off on the wrong foot. I'm sorry if I made you feel uncomfortable."

Ronnie Anne was flabbergasted. Why was _he_ apologizing to _her_?

"I was hoping that maybe we could, you know, be friends," he said.

Ronnie Anne just turned back around started walking away again, clamping her arms over her stomach in a vain attempt to quell the butterflies within. "We don't have to be friends."

"But I want to be!" cried Steven.

Ronnie Anne swiveled back around, sporting a furious glower.

"What's your _deal_?!" she demanded, as both of her hands clenched into fists. "I've been nothing but a jerk to you! Why do you want my friendship so badly?!"

He looked straight into her eyes, matching the intensity of her glare. "Because I don't want to have to avoid you every time I see you on the beach!"

Ronnie Anne felt a tightness in her chest, and the rest of her body followed suit. She tried to speak, but her jaw was locked in place. She tried to run, but her feet were bolted to the ground. It was rare that a boy stood up to her so unflinchingly- especially one as innocent and demure as Steven- and she didn't know how to respond.

"Besides, wouldn't you rather have a friend?" he asked. "Wouldn't you rather have someone to play with and go on adventures with?"

Ronnie Anne turned her head back towards the way she came. Her house was only a fifteen minute walk away. All she had to do was give him a polite but firm "no", and then she could go home, and he'd leave her alone, and she wouldn't have to deal with those weird, tingly feelings he gave her every time he came near.

But was that really what she wanted?

After all, he had a point. This was the first time since she moved to Beach City that someone was actively going out of his way to be friends with her. What kind of person would she be if she just tried to pass that up?

"Can't you at least tell me your name?" he asked.

Ronnie Anne's jaw unhooked itself and fell slack, letting a heavy sigh escape. "Ronnie Anne," she said. "My name is Ronnie Anne."

Steven smiled and held his hand out towards her. "Nice to meet you, Ronnie Anne."

Ronnie Anne jutted her hand forward and grabbed Steven's, purposefully making her grip as tight and unforgiving as possible. Much to her frustration, Steven didn't seem to notice. Instead, he just gave her a firm shake.

Ronnie Anne's stomach churned as she felt Steven's thumb caress the edge of her knuckles, and she felt a chill enveloping her skin. She tightened up, refusing to show any sign of weakness.

"Steven?" called a melodic, motherly voice from just behind the boy. "Who's this you're talking to?"

Ronnie Anne looked up to see a tall, willowy lady behind Steven, dressed in an aqua leotard and golden leggings. She had a pale, almost ghost-like skin tone, which stood in stark contrast to the vibrant colors of her outfit, not to mention her thick, peach-colored hair, done up in a pointy perm that seemed to defy gravity. As she approached them, she moved with all the poise and grace of a ballerina.

"Oh, hi, Pearl!" Steven called back.

Ronnie Anne raised her eyebrow in suspicion. She assumed that the lady was Steven's mom (she certainly looked old enough to be), but what kid addresses their parent by their first name?

"This is Ronnie Anne," he said. "She's my new friend!"

"Now wait a-" Ronnie Anne began, only to be cut off by Pearl's delighted squeal.

"Oh, wonderful!" she cried. "I'll go tell the Gems, and we'll set up a playdate between you two."

Pearl moved closer to Ronnie Anne and crouched down, meeting her eye level. "Speaking of which, Ronnie Anne, what's your favorite kind of tea?"

"I... um..." Ronnie Anne's cheeks flared up and her eyes darted off to the side.

"Oh, where are my manners?" she asked, holding her hand out for a shake. "My name is Pearl. It's a pleasure to meet you."

After a moment of hesitation, Ronnie Anne took Pearl's hand and shook it. Her ivory skin had a smooth, glassy texture, lacking the rubberiness and elasticity of typical human skin. At this point, Ronnie Anne also noticed the large, bulbous white gemstone that seemed to be embedded in Pearl's forehead. She could only wonder what that was; it was too big to be a piercing, and too thick to be a tattoo. Still, she figured it would be rude to ask about it, so she just held her tongue.

"So, what do you say?" asked Steven, turning towards Ronnie Anne. "I'll meet you on the beach tomorrow at two, and then I'll take you back to the temple and give you the grand tour! Sound good?"

"...uh..."

Ronnie Anne scratched the back of her head. As far as she knew, she didn't have any prior commitments for tomorrow. She could have gotten away with saying, "I'm busy" or coming up with some other vague excuse, but before she could open her mouth, Steven's earlier words echoed in her head:

 _"Besides, wouldn't you rather have a friend? Wouldn't you rather have someone to play with and go on adventures with?"_

As much as she hated to admit it, he was right. She _was_ lonely. She _did_ want a friend. Besides, how bad could one afternoon be?

"Sure, that sounds great," she said. "And Pearl?"

Pearl looked down at her. "Yes, Ronnie?"

"I... I like oolong."

Pearl let out a light, lilting laugh. "What exquisite taste!" she remarked. "The plot thickens!"

She draped her hand over Steven's shoulder and started leading him away. "We've got a mission to go on now, but we'll see you tomorrow. Have a nice day!"

The two of them each gave Ronnie Anne a wide smile and a wave goodbye, which she returned in kind. As she watched them depart, a dozen different questions ran through her mind. Who _was_ that Pearl lady? If she was Steven's guardian, then why did he call her "Pearl" instead of "Mom"? And if she wasn't, then who was she? Was she a nanny? A distant cousin? A fairy godmother?

And seriously, "playdate"? Ronnie Anne had to resist the urge to cringe when she heard that word. "Playdates" were for little kids, not tweens on the cusp of puberty.

And what was with that big gemstone on her head? And why did she call their family "the Gems"? And why did Steven call his house "the temple"?

Just what in the world was Ronnie Anne getting herself into?


	4. Hitting It Off

Lincoln approached the second Multiverse Lunch with far less apprehension than he had during the first, mostly because he didn't have anything to report. Ronnie Anne was the only one who used the goggles since yesterday, so the onus was on her to volunteer information. That, and Ronnie Anne looked like her mood was improving. She greeted him in the schoolyard that morning with a peck on the cheek and a smile, the latter of which endured for the majority of the day. Whatever was bothering her last Sunday night seemed to have dissipated.

As they joined hands and headed down to the cafeteria, Lincoln couldn't help but notice how gently she held him. Typically, her grip was crushing and vice-like, making him feel less like a lovestruck boy walking with his girlfriend and more like a naughty child getting dragged to the time-out corner by an incensed teacher. Today, though, her grip felt different- firm and strong, but not crushingly so.

He was tempted to comment on her change in disposition ("Boy, someone's in a good mood today!") but he feared that he'd make her feel embarrassed and self-conscious if he pointed it out. Since the beginning of the year, she had earned a reputation as the toughest girl- nay, _student_ \- in their grade. If she thought she was getting soft, she'd probably double down on the roughness. So, for the time being, Lincoln just held his tongue.

"So," he said as the two of them took their seats at the table, "anything new in Beach City?"

Ronnie Anne scratched the back of her head. "Well, I met Steven again. He was on the beach playing a ukulele."

"A ukulele?" Lincoln said with a snicker. "Wow, he really _is_ a dork."

"Oh, you have _no_ idea," said Ronnie Anne, her voice taking on a haughty tone. "He's like a 50's sitcom character."

She then stood up from her chair, opened her eyes as wide as they could go, put on the goofiest grin she could manage and started doing an awkward little shuffling jig. "Golly gosh, gee willikers, let's go on an adventure, guys!"

Ronnie Anne's display caused Lincoln to collapse face-first onto the table in a fit of uncontrollable laughter. Before continuing, she stood by and waited for Lincoln to regain his composure.

"You done?" she asked with a smirk.

"Y-yeah," said Lincoln, choking out a few more guffaws before sitting back up. "Go on."

"So, anyway, while we were talking, this lady came up to us to check on Steven."

"His mom?"

"That's what I thought at first, but Steven didn't call her 'Mom'. He called her 'Pearl'."

Lincoln's eyes narrowed with intrique. "That _is_ a little strange," he said. "You think maybe she's, like, his big sister or something?"

"Maybe. Or a nanny. He invited me over to tea, so I'm sure it'll all be sorted out next time it's my turn."

She reached into her backpack, whipped out the goggles and shoved them across the table towards Lincoln. "But tonight it's yours. Lemme know how that goes."

"Will do!" said Lincoln, giving her a cheery grin.

But the joy he was feeling during the meeting started to dissolve as they left the cafeteria and parted ways, walking to their respective classes. A pang of disease formed in the pit of Lincoln's stomach, and it swelled larger and larger as the day went on. In the back of his mind, he knew that he'd have to bring up Connie tomorrow at lunch. It was practially a given that his third venture through the multiverse would involve Connie in some way. What else could he do? Lie? Make something up? Talk about some aspect of the session that _wasn't_ Connie-related?

He was only able to quell his worry by continuously telling himself that he'd figure something out. He had at least eighteen hours to think about it, after all. Surely there'd be _some_ way to talk about his session without making her jealous.

As he hopped into the family van, he briefly felt inclined to ask Lori for advice, but he decided against it. This whole multiverse business was far too complicated to explain in just one car ride. Besides, Lori had to concentrate on the road, and she wouldn't be able to do that with Lincoln yammering in her ear about scientific theories that he barely understood himself.

No, as far as he was concerned, this was something he'd have to figure out himself- and he would. It's not like he was any stranger to finding his way out of sticky situations. In the past year alone, he made the entire town furious at him for giving out unhelpful romantic advice, he got completely lost in the woods during a camping trip with Clyde, and he got exiled from his own house when his family was convinced he was a bad luck charm. But every time, he was able to come up with a solution. Why should this be any different?

With that in mind, as soon as the van pulled into the parking lot, he bade Lori goodbye, hopped up to his room, and strapped on the goggles, eager to see what would unfold.

* * *

 _12:30 p.m._

 _September 15_

 _Royal Woods Academy Cafeteria_

"So you're gonna do it?" asked Clyde.

"Um...y-yeah," Lincoln choked out, jittering with anxiety. "Yeah, I definitely am."

"Then you might wanna do something about that."

Clyde pointed towards Lincoln's armpits, which were both soaked with sweat to the point of translucence.

"Oh, geez," groaned Lincoln, his cheeks flushing red.

"You really should be using a stronger antiperspirant," said Clyde, wagging his finger. "For now, though, you can just borrow my hoodie. That'll hide the stains, at least."

He slipped out of his heavy cotton hoodie and handed it to Lincoln, who promptly threw it on and zipped it up. "Thanks, Clyde. You're a lifesaver."

"Any time, amigo. Now get out there and win that girl's heart!"

"I will!" exclaimed Lincoln. "...as soon as I find her."

Lincoln turned away from Clyde and started scanning his eyes across the cafeteria. Sure enough, he found her just a few meters away, seated alone at a small circular table with her nose stuck in a book. On the table in front of her was an emptied-out tupperware container next to a plate of assorted vegetables and grains. Occasionally, she'd put her book down and take a bite or two from the salad, before going back to reading.

 _Well, here goes._

After gathering his belongings and getting a fist bump from Clyde for good luck, pushed himself up from his table and began to approach Connie's. During the walk over, he felt as if he had iron weights attached to both his feet, which only grew heavier the closer he got. He forced his body to trudge on and power through, telling himself that both Clyde and Lucy were counting on him to succeed.

Connie, naturally, was too absorbed in her reading to notice Lincoln approaching. He only managed to get her attention once he got to the table and collapsed into the seat opposite hers with a grunt.

"O-oh!" she yelped, instinctively snapping her book shut. "I'm sorry, I didn't see you there."

"No worries," Lincoln said with a shake of his head. "I was just wondering if I could, you know, join you for lunch. Is that okay?"

"Um, s-sure, I guess," said Connie, her voice trembling. "Just give me a moment."

Lincoln's body tensed up and locked itself into place. She looked just as timid and fragile as she did the day before. Despite Lucy's advice to act natural and treat her like a friend, his instincts were telling him that one wrong move would cause her to shatter like a porcelain doll.

She ducked under the table, rummaged a bit through her backpack, and pulled out a thin slip of laminated paper. She then picked up her book, flipped back to the page she was on and slipped the paper in between the pages, marking her place.

 _Well, I got her to put her book away,_ Lincoln thought, as the tension in his body started to dissipate. _That's a start._

"You're Connie, right?" he asked.

Connie nodded sharply, causing her glasses to jostle about. "Yes, that's me. And you're... Lincoln?"

Lincoln's heart rate accelerated. _She remembers my name!_

"That's right!" he said, a little louder than he intended. Connie flinched at the sudden spike in volume.

"Oh, s-sorry," he muttered, lowering his voice to a near whisper. "I'm just a little surprised you remembered me."

Connie's cheeks flared up. "I'm pretty good with names," she said, twiddling her fingers. "Tell me once and I rarely forget."

"Must be a neat skill to have."

"Mm-hmm."

A knot started to form in Lincoln's stomach, which only grew tighter when he saw her eyes wander back towards her food. He knew all too well that a grunt of "Mm-hmm" was a social dead end, a hard stop to any momentum that the conversation had. He had to kickstart it with a new subject, and _fast._

"I see you brought your own lunch," he said, acting on the first instinct that came to his head.

"Oh, yeah," said Connie, who was just about to pick her fork back up. "It's nothing special; just quinoa salad with kale and chickpeas. My mom doesn't trust the school to keep me nourished, so she insists on making my lunches herself."

"Lucky you," Lincoln said with a chuckle.

Connie raised an eyebrow at him. "Lucky how?"

Lincoln's stomach tightened up again. _Oh, no. Did I offend her?_

His first instinct was to think of some verbal backpedal; he could claim that he was only kidding, or being sarcastic, or that he meant to say something else. But just as he was about to open his mouth, Lucy's advice echoed in his head:

 _"She'll know if you're trying to be someone you're not. We introverts have to spend our whole lives surrounded by fakers, and we know one when we see one."_

If she was right, there was no way he'd get away with any of that. With no other options, he spouted off exactly what was on his mind, unfiltered.

"Well, first of all, she's not wrong about the food here," he said. "It's pretty awful."

He motioned towards the tray of food in front of him (which he had barely touched since he sat down), consisting of soggy macaroni, mushed peas and chicken that tasted like wood.

"No kidding," said Connie, wincing at the unappetizing spread. "But then why do you put up with it? Couldn't you ask your parents to make your lunches?"

Lincoln guffawed, incredulous at the very idea. "Not gonna happen. They're way too overworked as it is. Most days, I'm lucky if I can even get them to help me with my homework."

Connie slumped into her chair, shrinking away from Lincoln. "I-I'm sorry," she said, her bespectacled eyes looking as though they were about to tear up. "I had no idea."

Lincoln's jaw went slack. All he said was that his parents were too busy to make him lunch. The way she reacted, you'd think he just told her his parents were _dead_ , or that they were abusive monsters who greeted him every morning with a vicious beating. How timid could one person be?

"It's okay, it's okay," he said, once he found his voice again. "I mean, life's not always perfect. Sometimes you just gotta make do with what you have."

"I guess..." muttered Connie. Her voice trailed off, as if there was supposed to be a second part of that sentence that died in her throat before it escaped her lips.

 _Dang it. Another dead end. Let's see... what else could we talk about?_

Lincoln's eyes gravitated towards the closed book right beside Connie's lunch. She mentioned the previous day that she enjoyed reading; in fact, it was only one of the bits of information she was willing to volunteer; so maybe she'd be eager to talk about her book. It was worth a shot.

"So what's that you're reading?" he asked.

"Oh, that?" Connie sat back up, straightened out her posture and re-established eye contact with Lincoln. "That's just the latest Dogcopter book."

 _Dogcopter_? That didn't sound like any book series Lincoln had heard of. He was expecting her to be reading something highly sophisticated and literate, well above their grade level- and "Dogcopter" sounded like anything but.

"Never heard of it. What's it about?"

Connie's timid eyes burst open. "You've never heard of Dogcopter?!"

Lincoln gulped, fearing that he might have blown his chances with that one line. "Um, should I have?" he asked, scratching the back of his head.

"Lincoln, it's the coolest book series _ever,_ " she gushed, breaking into a smile. "It's about a cyborg dog-helicopter hybrid who fights evil with military-grade explosives!"

Lincoln's face lit up. "That sounds _awesome_!"

"And it gets even better," Connie said. "In the third book, he faces off against an army of rogue robots, who gain sentience and start rebelling against their human creators. But Dogcopter's part mechanical too, so the whole time he struggles to decide which side he should truly be fighting for."

At this point, Lincoln was practically trembling with excitement. Connie's words caused a montage of bombastic war scenes to start blossoming in Lincoln's imagination: a flying robotic dog darting across the sky, weaving through bullets and lasers while returning fire with clusters of missiles.

"You're telling me that I had to blow my summer reading _Catcher in the Rye_ and _Johnny Tremain_ when I could have been reading _this_?!"

Connie giggled. "I mean, it's not exactly classic literature. I wouldn't count on it showing up on any summer reading list. But I _would_ count on it rocking your socks off."

"I'll bet," said Lincoln. "So where can I find it?"

"Actually, I've got the first book right here in my bag. Here, lemme get it!"

She unzipped her bag, dug to the bottom, and dislodged a shimmering paperback book from the clutter. On the cover, the word "DOGCOPTER" was emblazoned at the top in platinum letters. In the center was a watercolor illustration of a gray dachshund with a thin propeller sticking out of its back, its body stiff as a board and its beady eyes pointed directly forward.

"It starts off a little slow, but it _really_ picks up by the second act," she said as she handed Lincoln the book. "You'll love it, I promise!"

Upon seeing Connie's beaming face, accompanied by those glittering eyes that shone right through her glasses, Lincoln suddenly felt fifty pounds lighter. He _did_ it. He would have jumped for joy if he wasn't worried about looking like a spaz in front of his crush. Not only had he kindled a new friendship, but they immediately found something cool to bond over. He never would have imagined that his first meeting with Connie would go this well.

He spent the next few classes sneaking peeks at the Dogcopter book while evading the watchful eyes of his teachers. He knew how to slack off discreetly, while paying just enough attention to answer any questions that came his way; it was a skill he picked up after years of sneaking comics into school. As he read, he made a mental note of every scene, every line of dialogue he'd be gushing about to Connie during tomorrow's lunch.

This looked to be the beginning of a beautiful relationship...

* * *

...for one Lincoln, anyway.

Lincoln had to admit he was feeling a bit envious of his alternate self. Alt-Lincoln was hitting it off with a cute little bookworm, while he was stuck trying to figure out how to explain the situation to his hot-blooded girlfriend.

 _Geez Louise, how the heck am I going to spin this?_


	5. We

Lincoln took a deep breath and paced back and forth across his room, trying to think what he was going to say at the next multiverse lunch. The entire session was about his effort to muster up the courage to approach Connie. What was he going to talk about, other than that?

 _I guess I could talk about what I learned in school that day,_ Lincoln thought. _Then again, that's kinda boring. Plus, half the time I wasn't even listening to the teacher because I was too busy reading Dogcopter._

 _Wait, that's it! Dogcopter!_

The answer was staring him right in the face the whole time. Strictly speaking, he didn't have to mention Connie at all; he could just say that he was introduced to a new book, and leave it at that. Crisis averted.

...for now, at least. In the back of his mind, he knew that it would get harder to leave Connie out of their discussions as time went on. What if Alt-Lincoln invited her over to his house, or what if she asked him to the Sadie Hawkins dance? Regardless, he just assured himself that he'd cross that bridge when he came to it.

At lunch the following day, Lincoln strode up to Ronnie Anne's table with nary a trace of anxiety. Prior to the meeting, he had mapped out what he was going to say and rehearsed it several times over.

"So, what's been going on in your timeline?" she asked.

"Nothing, really," Lincoln said without a hint of wavering in his voice. "Except I get hooked on this new book series called _Dogcopter_."

Ronnie Anne raised an eyebrow at him. "'Dogcopter'?"

"Yeah! It's actually pretty cool. It's about this robot dog-helicopter who flies around fighting evil."

His description of the plot prompted a snicker from Ronnie Anne, which in retrospect, he should have expected.

"And this is a _book_?" she asked. "Not, you know, a cartoon? Or a drawing by a seven-year-old?"

"W-w-ell, uh..." Lincoln stuttered, eyes darting back and forth. "I mean, it sounds kinda silly, but it's really well written."

"If you say so," Ronnie Anne said with a roll of her eyes.

"No, it is!" said Lincoln. "Like, the dog gets engaged in a war against a robot army, and then he gets all conflicted about whether his loyalties should lie with his human creators or with his robot-"

"Keep talking like that and you'll get bumped down to 'geek' status."

Lincoln chortled a little, in spite of himself. "Okay, okay, I'll stop."

With that, he reached into his backpack, pulled out the goggles, and shoved them across the table towards her. "Besides, it's your turn."

Ronnie Anne nodded, snapped up the goggles and dropped them into her backpack.

"Can't wait to learn more about this Steven kid!" said Lincoln. "You've gotta tell me all about him tomorrow."

Ronnie Anne let out an awkward, stilted chuckle. "Um, yeah. You bet."

That afternoon, Ronnie Anne's session with the goggles started a good deal later than her previous one did. This time, she made sure to clean her room and get all her homework done beforehand, partially to avoid another lecture from mom, and partially because she was a little apprehensive about going back to Beach City. There were several details about her last session that just seemed... _off_ to her, from Steven's absurd levels of forgiveness to the way he referred to his home as "the temple" to the fact that Pearl lead him away to send him on some vaguely defined "mission". And now that she thought about it, Pearl looked awfully pale for someone who lived by the beach.

Quite frankly, she didn't know if today's session would answer her questions or leave her with even more.

Regardless, she knew Lincoln would be expecting some juicy details from her tomorrow, so she didn't exactly have a choice. Once she finished her last math problem, she plopped herself down on her bed, strapped on the goggles and waited for them to boot up...

* * *

 _2:00 p.m._

 _July 22_

 _Beach City_

"It's just an afternoon hangout session. It's just an afternoon hangout session."

Ronnie Anne had chosen a rather unwieldy mantra to repeat to herself as she ambled onto the beach. In her defense, she didn't want to call it a "date", and she _really_ didn't want to call it a "playdate", so this was really the best she could come up with. Still, the mantra seemed to serve its intended purpose: namely, alleviating the anxiety-induced cramps in her tummy as she drew closer and closer.

Not helping was the fact that she had gotten lunch at Fish Stew Pizza just a half hour earlier, and unwisely decided to order the spicy tuna calzone, which wasn't exactly sitting well with her. She dreaded the thought of annihilating Steven's toilet on their first outing together. But then again, Pearl had promised her tea, and she was pretty sure she heard somewhere that tea was good for your stomach.

"Hi, Ronnie Anne!" called a familiar voice from off in the distance.

She looked up to see Steven about fifty feet away, beaming and waving. That gleaming grin seemed to take up his entire face, and even at that distance it was plainly visible.

Ronnie Anne kept her hands at her sides and her gaze pointed downward, refusing to make eye contact with the boy until it was absolutely necessary. Even then, the mere knowledge that they were getting closer was enough to give her butterflies.

As she walked, she felt the crunch of sand grinding up against her heel. In her carelessness, she had let her feet sink into the floor of the beach, causing sand to leak into her sneakers. She idly wondered if Steven's house had a "no-shoes" policy; at the very least, she'd probably have to empty them out before coming inside. Given all the oddities she'd encountered so far, who knew? She wouldn't be surprised if he made her wash her feet in a water basin before walking through the front door.

"Hi, Steven," she said upon closing the distance between them. She forced herself to make eye contact with the boy, out of the interest of averting rudeness.

"Glad you could make it!" he said. "I can't wait for you to meet the other gems!"

Ronnie Anne began to step back towards the city, until she noticed that Steven was trying to lead her in the opposite direction.

"Um, Steven? The city's that way."

Steven chuckled. "Yeah, but the temple's that way!" he said, pointing down the beach. Looking ahead, Ronnie Anne could see a long stretch of sand leading around the perimeter of the massive cliff overlooking the city.

"We can hang out in the city later," said Steven. "First, I want you to come see my house. Come on!"

Ronnie Anne gulped. She didn't know there even _was_ anyone who lived that far outside the city's boundaries. Was that even legal? What was his address? Who would deliver his mail?

As they were walking, Ronnie Anne's eye was hit with a sharp tinge of light, and she looked down to see where it was coming from. What she found was that Steven's shirt was riding up his belly, revealing a luminous pink jewel where his navel should be.

"What's that?" she asked. "Some kind of piercing?"

Steven shook his head. "It's not a piercing; I was born with it. It's my gem!"

Ronnie Anne squinted at him. "Your 'gem'?"

"Yeah, my gem. I use it to summon my shield. I haven't really gotten the hang of it yet, though."

At this point, Ronnie Anne's jaw was hanging half-open in disbelief. Gems? Shields? What on _Earth_ was this kid babbling about?

Steven chuckled upon seeing her reaction. "Oh, that's right, you're not from around here," he said, scratching the back of his head. "I'll let Pearl explain once we get to the temple. She knows more about this kind of thing than I do."

Ronnie Anne started to feel a twinge of unease. The fact that he casually called his home the "temple" - again - made her suspect that she was being inducted into some weird magical cult. Her discomfort worsened when a cursory glance over her shoulder revealed that the urban square of Beach City was now little more than a speck off in the distance.

"So where are you from?" asked Steven.

"Chicago," said Ronnie Anne. "My mom got transfered, so we had to move. This city's pretty nice, though."

For the next quarter mile of sand, Steven continued to ask her about various different aspects of her home life. She had a dozen questions she wanted to ask him, but she couldn't quite muster up the courage to do so. Besides, she figured that everything would be explained to her in due time.

Eventually, they made it around the edge of the cliff and arrived at the house. The house itself didn't look like anything special: just an average white beach house with a big wooden porch out front.

It was what was _behind_ the house that gave Ronnie Anne pause.

Towering over the house was a hundred foot tall carving of a stone-faced woman, with billowing curly hair, a second face resting atop her forehead, and four arms, all but one of which had missing hands. Ronnie Anne could tell, from the large growths of moss and algae covering its shoulders and midsection, that it was carved quite a long time ago. It looked bizarre enough on its own, but even more so with that quaint little beach house embedded in its stomach. Those two pieces of scenery just didn't go together.

"Pretty cool, huh?" asked Steven, noticing that the girl was left speechless. "And it's even cooler on the inside. Come on!"

As Steven lead her up the porch stairs, all she could do was look up and gawk at the giant statue. It was so large, so majestic, so imposing, that Ronnie Anne couldn't help but feel like it was silently judging her for daring to appear in its presence. The fact that Steven seemed completely unperturbed by it did nothing to help the situation.

Once they made it to the front door, Steven gave it a couple of knocks and let himself in.

"Hey, guys, I'm home!"

Just to be safe, Ronnie Anne took off her sneakers, emptied them out and slipped them back on before following Steven inside. When she walked in the door, she was greeted with an aroma she knew quite well: the musky odor of an old, but well-kept, wooden house. It reminded her a bit of her Uncle Carlos's cabin up in Spitler Woods. To her right was a porcelain-tiled kitchen; to her left was a rickety wooden stairwell that lead up to a bedroom (presumably Steven's); and right in the middle was was a pretty typical-looking den, with a futon wrapped around a coffee table piled with a random assortment of books and boxes, and a wooden floor covered by a shag carpet.

However, just like the exterior of the house, the interior was one half normal and one half _what am I even looking at_. Just beyond the den was a room with a lustrous, reflective mauve floor, cave-like crystalline walls lined with diamonds, and a glassy cyan-colored platform right in the middle. Now she was beginning to understand why Steven kept calling it "the temple," though to her it looked more like a cross between a throne room and a diamond mine.

In the kitchen, Ronnie Anne saw Pearl bent over a stove, minding a bubbling teapot. By her side was a statuesque dark-skinned woman, with black sunglasses and a bushy cubic afro that looked thick enough to function as a helmet.

"Oh, hello, Steven!" Pearl called back. "Ronnie Anne, your tea will be ready in just a few moments."

The dark-skinned woman walked toward the door to greet the two children, with the effortless, impeccable posture of a trained soldier. "I've heard a lot about you, Ronnie Anne," she said in a British-accented contralto. "My name is Garnet."

Ronnie Anne swallowed hard. Did Steven tell her about how badly she mistreated him? Was this all some elaborate punishment for her?

She looked up to see Garnet smiling down at her, which did little to quell her worry. True, smiles could signify warmth and hospitality, but they could also signify menace and mischief. It didn't help that Garnet wasn't easy to read, given her stoic tone of voice and the fact that her shades made it impossible to see her eyes.

"Hey, what's up, Steven?" called a raspy, tomboyish voice from the second floor. Ronnie Anne looked up towards the top of the stairs to see a short, chubby girl with a deep violet skin tone - which Ronnie Anne assumed, or at least hoped, was just body paint - and thick, long silvery hair that brushed the back of her calves. The girl clomped down the stairs to greet them, showing none of the grace and poise exhibited by Pearl or Garnet.

"Is this the girl you were telling us about yesterday?" asked the chubby girl. Steven nodded.

The girl puffed out her plump cheeks and started ruffling Steven's jewfro. "Aw, does widdle Steven have a girlfriend now?" she cooed, eliciting blushes from both of the children. "Who's my widdle wadykiller?"

Without a word, Garnet raised up her hand, curled it into a fist, and brought it crashing down onto the girl's head.

"That's quite enough, Amethyst," she said.

Amethyst just groaned and lumbered away, clutching her head in pain.

"Sorry about that," Steven said with a sheepish chuckle. "Amethyst's a bit of a teaser. Anyway, let me give you the grand tour!"

He draped his thick, pudgy arm around Ronnie Anne's shoulder, causing her to shudder.

"So this right here is the den," he said, leading her to the center of the room. "Not much to say about it, really. It's just a big open space for us to lounge around in. Or, you know, play board games, or do jigsaw puzzles. Pearl loves those."

After letting her look around for a bit, Steven guided her towards the stairs. "And on the second floor, you'll see my room," he said, hopping up the flight. "Be careful climbing the stairs, though; they're a little rickety."

As Ronnie Anne ascended the steps, she could feel each of them creak and quiver, as if they were buckling under her weight. As she neared the top, Steven looked down and offered her his hand, to which she responded by looking down and shoving both of her hands into her pockets. Steven just shrugged, withdrew his hand and waited for her.

Ronnie Anne had to squint upon reaching the last stair. The entire room was bathed in harsh rays from the summer sun, thanks to two enormous windows on the far end that took up the entire wall. Once her eyes got adjusted to the light, she saw a pretty typical setup for a preteen boy's room: a bed draped with a big, poofy comforter, a TV and a game system set up in the center, and a few stray magazines, books and articles of clothing lining the floor.

"Not bad," she said.

"Yeah, it's nothing special, but I call it home," Steven said with a smile. "The _really_ cool stuff is on the other side of the temple." With that, he started walking down the stairs, beckoning her to follow.

Ronnie Anne sighed with relief. The far end of the temple, with its sparkling marble floor, mysterious platform and oddly marked door, was the one part of the scenery she had the most questions about. Finally, he'd stop beating around the bush and start explaining all the oddities.

She looked over towards the other end of the temple while she descended the stairs. The longer she looked at it, the more out of place it seemed. Why was this alien throne room sharing a space with a rustic wooden lodge?

Unfortunately, she was so enraptured by the spectacle that she forgot to watch her step. She stepped forward, felt naught but air beneath her foot, and before she could reorient herself, she lost her balance and fell...

...right into Steven's waiting arms.

Steven, showing remarkably quick reflexes, caught her right before she hit the floor. The next thing she knew, she was suspended a meter in the air, looking up into Steven's wide, vibrant eyes.

"That's why I told you to be careful," said Steven. "Those stairs take some getting used to."

The butterflies in Ronnie Anne's stomach started swarming again, undoubtedly set off by the sight of that boyish face staring down at her. That, and the sensation of being held and cradled in those arms, with near-frightening ease. Steven showed no signs of strain or effort, carrying her as if she were a paper doll.

Ronnie Anne hopped out of his arms and swung away from him, trying to hide her burgeoning blush. "T-thanks," she muttered.

As soon as her butterflies settled and her heart resumed its natural pace, she let Steven lead her over to the other side of the temple. It looked even more fantastical up close, with its reflective floor that looked sterile enough to eat off of and its cave-like crystalline walls. Ronnie Anne also noticed an enigmatic door on the far end with no visible knobs or hinges, marked by a star insignia.

"This is the warp pad," said Steven. "It lets us teleport to other parts of the world. The Gems use it to take me on missions!"

Ronnie Anne could hardly believe what she was hearing. Was this some kind of elaborate sci-fi stage show?

"Okay, time out, time out," she said, backing away. "Missions? A _teleporter_? You're... you're pulling my leg, aren't you? Is this some kind of prank?"

"No, it's not!" cried Steven. "I swear, none of this is made up!"

"I assure you, this is no 'prank'," said Pearl, as she left the kitchen and walked up to the two children. "Everything Steven has told you thus far is true."

"Yeah, why would we pull _your_ leg when we could just pull our own?" asked Amethyst. She held her left leg out in front of her, balancing on her right. Before Ronnie Anne could even ask her what she was trying to do, Amethyst's left leg began to grow like a weed, stretching out several feet in front of her. But it didn't just grow straight out; it twisted and turned as it grew, forming a grotesque looking tangle.

"Amethyst, stop scaring the guest!" scolded Pearl. Amethyst just reared back and cackled in response.

But that was it for Ronnie Anne. She was already struggling to process everything that was happening today, and that stunt pushed her past her limit. The sound of Pearl and Amethyst's bickering grew fainter and fainter as she collapsed onto her back and lost consciousness.

* * *

"Hey, Nie-Nie? Dinner's ready!"

Ronnie Anne took off the goggles to see Bobby poking his head through the door.

"We're having caldo de pollo tonight. Your favorite!"

On any other night, this would be her cue to barrel past Bobby and start sprinting down the stairs like a track runner. But after that session with the goggles, all she could do was stare slack-jawed at the pair of goggles on her lap.

"Um... cool," she said in a robotic monotone. "I'll be down in just a minute."

Bobby cast her a wary glance. "You feelin' okay, Nie-Nie?"

"Yeah!...yeah, I'm peachy. I'll be right down."

Bobby shrugged and closed the door behind him, leaving her alone to ponder the fantastical scene she just witnessed. There _had_ to be some kind of logical explanation. There was no way that her alternate self was taking part in some bizarre sci-fi fantasy epic.

...was there?

Lisa _did_ say that the multiverse was made up of near-infinite possibilities. It wasn't impossible that at least one of them had the earth colonized by aliens or space robots or whatever Pearl and Amethyst wanted to call themselves. But even then, what were the odds that _she_ of all people would find herself at the center of it?

"Ronnie Anne! Come down to dinner, sweetie!"

...but all of that would have to wait until after dinner.

As she hopped off her bed and shuffled towards the door, Ronnie Anne cast one last glance at the miraculous tool lying atop her comforter. As soon as she finished her supper and cleared her place, those goggles were going right back on.


	6. Are the Crystal Gems

_3:00 p.m._

 _July 22_

 _Crystal Temple_

Ronnie Anne awoke fifteen minutes later to the smell of warm oolong tea filling her nose. She opened her eyes to find herself laid out on the couch in the den, with an ivory blanket laid over her, and a tea-filled mug resting upon the coffee table beside her. Gathered around the table were Garnet, Amethyst, Pearl and Steven, all of whom had been watching her expectantly.

"Um, hey, Ronnie Anne," said Amethyst. The pudgy girl crept towards the couch with her hands folded in front of her and her head bowed. "Sorry for freaking you out back there."

Ronnie Anne shrunk away from her; the image of Amethyst's elongated leg trick was still fresh in her mind.

"I-it's okay. But how did you even do that, anyway?"

"It's pretty easy," said Amethyst. "First you..."

She stopped herself cold once she noticed Pearl giving her a pointed look.

"...never mind," she said, backing away from Ronnie Anne. "I'll explain later."

Ronnie Anne jolted herself up, causing all of the hosts aside from Garnet to flinch in surprise. That volatile cocktail of confusion and frustration she felt just before she fainted had just re-entered her body.

"No, I want you to explain now!" cried Ronnie Anne. "How did you do that?! Why are you purple?! Where did you get a teleporter?! What's a gem?! Which one of you is Steven's mom?! Where's his-"

"Ronnie Anne," interjected Garnet, her voice gentle yet authoritative. "We realize that this is a lot for you to take in, but if you give us some time, we'll gladly explain everything. In the meantime, just sit back and relax. Have some tea."

Ronnie Anne, not wanting to invoke Garnet's ire, complied. She took a few deep breaths, let herself sink into the couch and picked up her mug with both hands, sipping it.

"Allow us to re-introduce ourselves, Ronnie Anne," said Pearl. "We..."

She planted herself in the middle of the room and performed a rapid pirouette, capping the motion off with a bow. "...are the Crystal Gems. Sworn defenders of the planet Earth, and allies to the late, legendary Rose Quartz."

"We look out for bad guys and monsters and we kick their butts!" said Amethyst, throwing a few punches and kicks.

Ronnie Anne felt a churning sensation emanating from the deepest regions of her gut. She was already grappling with the notion that magical shapeshifting warriors exist, though at this point it was virtually undeniable. No special effects or prosthetics could replicate that stunt she saw Amethyst pull before she passed out.

But now the Crystal Gems were nonchalantly letting her know that, oh yeah, monsters exist too. Ronnie Anne had to send another gulp of oolong down her throat just to keep herself from getting nauseous from anxiety.

"And I'm their youngest member!" Steven proudly proclaimed, wearing that same happy-go-lucky smile he had on when she first saw him on the beach. "They're training me and taking me on missions so I can be a Crystal Gem like them!"

Steven's overly chipper disposition only made Ronnie Anne more confused. Either the monsters they just brought up weren't all that threatening, or Steven was just that unflappable. On top of that, none of the questions she blurted out had been answered so far. She knew that all of them would be addressed in due time, but she wasn't so sure she was willing to wait that long.

"Pearl?" she called, instinctually raising her hand. Six years of public school had hard-wired that gesture into her muscle memory, to the point that it was automatic; if she had a question to ask, she raised her hand.

"Yes, Ronnie Anne?" answered Pearl.

Ronnie Anne gestured towards Amethyst. "How did Amethyst do that leg thing?"

Amethyst had to clasp a hand over her mouth to muffle her giggles, which Pearl just ignored. "All gems are capable of shapeshifting," she said. "Even Steven here."

Steven's smile shrunk a little, his cheerfulness tempered with a twinge of sheepishness. "I'm still learning, though. Last time I tried shapeshifting I accidentally turned all my fingers into cats."

Two questions came to Ronnie Anne's mind, the first being, "Why did you just say that like it was a completely normal sentence?" and the second being, "What's a gem?" In the interest of remaining tactful, Ronnie Anne decided to ask the latter.

"Yeah, about that. What _are_ gems, exactly?"

"Ah, excellent question," said Pearl. "Gems are projections of hard light. Our bodies are just tangible holograms, generated by our gemstones." She gestured towards the bulbous stone embedded in her forehead. "That's why we can shapeshift."

At this point, Ronnie Anne was beginning to feel the onsets of shock fatigue, as that revelation should have surprised her a lot more than it did. But if she could accept that three shapeshifting monster hunting warriors were standing right in front of her, she could accept that they weren't human (or even organic). It _did_ explain why Pearl's skin felt so glassy and smooth, and how she kept her pale complexion.

If anything, she was more surprised by the implication that _Steven_ wasn't human, which was the next thing she decided to ask about.

"Wait, Steven's a gem, too?" she asked.

"Yep!" said Steven. "Well, half-gem, anyway. On my mom's side."

Ronnie Anne felt like she was fighting an expository hydra; every time a question was answered, several more questions would spawn in its place. _Gems can reproduce with humans? How? Are there any other half-gems, or is Steven the only one? And where are Steven's parents?_

In the interest of keeping their session succinct, she opted to ask the question with the simplest answer. While making eye contact with Steven, she held out three fingers, each one pointed at one of the Crystal Gems. "So which one of them is your mom?"

That one question seemed to puncture Steven's heart. As soon as the words left her lips, the jolly young boy deflated, letting his head, shoulders and eyelids succumb to gravity. "None of them," he said. "My mom isn't with us anymore."

Ronnie Anne gasped, feeling a pang of guilt that only got stronger the longer she looked at his now-sullen face. "Oh, I'm so sorry," she squeaked out. "Were you close?"

Steven shook his heavy head. "I never knew her."

Ronnie Anne gasped again, this time opting to clam up completely, lest she dig herself deeper.

Fortunately, Pearl decided to chime in before the silence went on for too long. With a solemn look in her eyes and her hands clasped in front of her, she took a step closer to Ronnie Anne and began to speak.

"Rose Quartz was an extraordinary gem," she said, every syllable imbued with as much gravitas as she could muster. "A revolutionary, a fearless warrior, a master tactician..."

Pearl turned her eyes away from Ronnie Anne and started staring pensively into the distance. "...and a good friend."

Ronnie Anne had to squeeze her eyes shut to block the incoming flow of tears. One thing she had neglected to mention to Steven on the way over was the fact that she, too, had only one parent. Her father was taken from her at a young age due to complications from a strangulated hernia. Pearl's words evoked memories of all the stories her mom would tell her about the late Mr. Santiago, each one ending with at least one of them getting choked up.

It only got harder to keep the tears back once she saw Garnet and Amethyst approach Pearl, each of them resting their hands atop her petite shoulders. Desperate not to let anyone see her cry, she changed the subject.

"What about your dad? Is he still around?"

Steven perked up a bit. "Yeah, dad's around!" he said. "Well, kind of."

As soon as she spied the befuddled look in Ronnie Anne's eyes, Garnet stepped in to clarify.

"We let Steven's father raise him for a few years after he was born," she explained. "After that, he had to begin his Crystal Gem training, so he moved in with us."

"Yeah, but dad and I are still super close!" said Steven, who was beginning to reassume his cheery disposition. "One of these days I'll take you to meet him!"

Ronnie Anne took a long, deep swig of her tea before responding. "What's he like?" she asked, forming a hint of a smile.

"He's pretty laid back and friendly," said Steven. "Loves to goof around, knows how to have fun, and he doesn't let anything bring him down. And he plays guitar!"

Ronnie Anne couldn't help but chuckle. It sounded like Steven's dad was just as much of a dork as Steven was. Now, at least, she knew where Steven got all his mannerisms from.

"Oh, you laugh now, but wait 'til you hear him shred," Steven said with a wag of his finger. "Anyway, that's my life in a nutshell. Any more questions?"

 _Yes, several_ , thought Ronnie Anne. _But I don't want to be here all night, so I'll just ask the essential ones._

"Tell me a little more about those 'missions' you go on," she said. "Is it all just fighting monsters?"

"No, not always," said Steven. "Sometimes we'll go to some ancient gem ruins to look for an artifact."

"But you _do_ fight monsters."

"Yeah. Every now and then something'll show up on the beach and we'll have to take it down."

Ronnie Anne's stomach lurched, prompting her to quell the pain with another sip of oolong. It was the uncertainty of the situation that bothered her the most. If Steven said that they fought criminals, or roaming gangs of cats, then at least she'd know what to look out for. But a monster could be _anything_. An eight-foot-tall yeti, a three-headed cobra with acidic saliva, an overgrown rat with razor-like fangs and iron-piercing claws...

Point was, if she didn't see one of these "monsters" soon, she was going to drive herself crazy imagining what they might be. She sat up, set her mug down on the coffee table, and looked Steven straight in the eye.

"I want to go on one of your missions," she said, taking on a defiant tone.

All of the gems except for Garnet blinked in confusion.

"Come again?" asked Pearl.

"I said I want to go on one of your-"

"No, no, no, I heard you, but..."

Pearl started wringing her hands together. "...we just don't know, Ronnie Anne. We've just met you. More importantly, the missions we go on are quite dangerous, especially for a human. We're not sure if you'd be able to handle it."

On instinct, Ronnie Anne's hands balled into fists. If there was one thing she couldn't stand, it was being talked down to. And she found Pearl's comment to be downright condescending, not least of all because of the implication that Steven was more capable than she was.

Still, she managed to repress her urge to lash out, and recited her following request in a sharp, but measured, tone.

"Let me armwrestle Steven."

Pearl raised an eyebrow at her. "What exactly would that prove?"

Ronnie Anne's lips started to curl up into a mischievous smile. "Weeellll," she sneered, "it seems to me that if Steven's strong enough to go on missions, and I'm stronger than Steven, then _I_ should be allowed to go on missions."

"Makes sense to me!" said Steven. "What do you think, Garnet?"

Garnet looked aside and started tapping herself on the chin, giving her brain a moment to process and evaluate the argument.

"I cannot argue with that logic," said Garnet.

Pearl shot Garnet a look of pure incredulity, bordering on panic. "Garnet! You're not seriously considering this, are you?! We've no knowledge of this human's training or experience, nor do we-"

Garnet shoved her hand in front of Pearl's face, holding up a single finger. The gesture silenced the pale gem in an instant.

"Let them armwrestle."

Amethyst doubled over in laughter, slapping herself on the knee. "Ha-HA! Pearl just got shut down by the G-Squad!"

Steven chuckled a bit at the Gems' bickering before walking over to the coffee table to challenge Ronnie Anne. As he approached, Ronnie Anne stared him down and gave her thick, bulbous arm muscles a couple of flexes. She'd beaten plenty of boys in armwrestling before - including a few who were one or two years older than her- and she _loved_ the feeling of power it gave her.

By her expectation, Steven would be no different. His arms were pretty thick, but they had virtually no muscle tone. She vaguely remembered him catching and holding her when she tripped down the stairs, but she was pretty sure her feet were touching the floor at the time. There was no way he was strong enough to hold her off the ground that effortlessly.

Steven, unfazed by her attempts to psych him out, placed his elbow on the coffee table and held out his hand towards hers. "Ready whenever you are!"

Ronnie Anne smirked, slammed her elbow down and locked hands with the boy. As she did, she couldn't help but notice how rough and calloused his fingers felt - probably from all that ukulele playing, she reasoned. She planted her elbow, dug her fingers deep into his hand and started to push.

And nothing happened.

Steven, seemingly content with letting Ronnie Anne make the first move, just kept his arm firm without trying to push her back. Ronnie Anne, meanwhile, liked to start armwrestling matches by using only some of her strength, to lure her opponent into a false sense of security before bringing down the iron hand. However, much to her surprise, her initial efforts couldn't make Steven's arm budge even a millimeter.

"I said I'm ready whenever you are," he said, eyeing her confusedly. "You can start."

Ronnie Anne couldn't tell if he was mocking her or if he genuinely couldn't tell that she was trying. Given the impression she got from him so far, she wasn't inclined to believe the former, but the latter seemed just as inconceivable. Whatever the case was, she'd have to try harder.

But even as she steadily increased the power of her push, Steven's arm continued to remain stationary. With every passing second, Ronnie Anne strained herself more and more, until a low, guttural string of grunts emanated through her clenched-shut teeth, and her bicep was swelling so large and shaking so violently that it looked ready to explode. Still, no progress was made.

Steven's forehead wrinkled with worry, once he finally noticed how hard his opponent was trying. "Whoa, whoa, whoa, easy, Ronnie Anne. Don't blow a gasket."

With a humiliating lack of effort, he pushed her hand back until it made contact with the table. After he released her hand and withdrew his own, her defeated arm slumped off the table and hung limp by her side.

Ronnie Anne could do little but stare dumbly at her limp arm, baffled by what just transpired. This wasn't the first armwrestling match she ever lost, but as far as she could remember, she'd _never_ been trounced like this. She could even give _Bobby_ a run for his money, and he was six years older than her. How could this sweet little ball of chub be so overwhelmingly strong?

"Aw, don't feel bad, Ronnie Anne," said Steven. "Even if we can't take you on missions, there's other fun stuff that we can do together!"

Ronnie Anne hastily remade eye contact with him. "Oh! Yeah, I know. I just..."

Ronnie Anne's eyes drifted back towards her still-aching arm. "...how'd you get so strong?"

Steven giggled and gave his jewfro a light scratching. "I dunno. I think it's 'cause I'm a gem."

 _Ah, that makes sense_ , she thought. _He's not human._

Steven donned a lighter, more sympathetic smile as he climbed up onto the couch and took a seat next to her. Stealing a glance at his arm, Ronnie Anne could've sworn it looked firmer and more muscular than it did before, unless her eyes were just playing tricks on her.

"By the way, don't worry about the monsters," he said. "You probably won't see too many unless you go looking for them."

Ronnie Anne's eyebrows jumped and her facial muscles tensed up, pulling her skin taut. How did he know that she was concerned about the monsters?

"And if you _do_ see one, you can just give me a call," he added, taking out his phone and offering it to her. "I won't let them hurt you."

Steven's remark, intended to be reassuring, left Ronnie Anne a gibbering mess. Blood gushed into her cheeks, leaving crimson splotches all over her face, while butterflies started swarming, nay, _attacking_ , the inside of her stomach. Steven - happy-go-lucky, cutie pie Steven - just offered to be her knight in shining armor.

In both manner and appearance, Steven was the kind of boy Ronnie Anne lorded over in elementary school. She'd had dorks like him offer to "protect" her before, and every time she'd just laugh in their faces, shove them over, and tell them that she could take care of herself, thank you very much. But now the offer was whipping her heart into a frenzy, and it took every ounce of her willpower not to start swooning.

"Y-yeah!" she blurted out. "Let's exchange numbers. You know, so we can- we can hang out. And stuff."

She grabbed Steven's phone out of his hand and started hammering in her name and number. Steven gave her a bemused look, a little unnerved by the sound of her thumb thwacking against the touch screen.

"Are you all right?" he asked.

"Yeah. Peachy. A-OK. Here's my phone," she spat out in a single breath, before ripping her own phone out of her pocket and shoving it into Steven's hand.

"Oooookay..." muttered Steven, casting Ronnie Anne a wary glance before adding himself as a contact. The whole time, it seemed like the air in the temple was getting thinner, causing her breathing to become more labored. In the background, she could hear Garnet restraining Amethyst and quietly reprimanding her. Most of what Garnet said was inaudible, but Ronnie Anne could vaguely make out something about "messing up Steven's funky flow," which she didn't really know how to interpret.

"All done!" he chirped, handing her back her phone and taking back his own.

"T-t-thanks. I'll see you later."

Unable to endure the strain on her heart for a moment longer, Ronnie Anne gave Steven a half-hearted pat on the shoulder before taking off for the front door.

"Leaving so soon?" asked Pearl.

Ronnie Anne looked back over her shoulder and forced herself into a stiff, artificial smile. "Yeah, sorry, but I promised my mom I'd help out with some chores. But today was fun! It was nice meeting you all!"

Garnet returned the smile, though hers actually looked authentic. "It was nice meeting you too, Ronnie Anne. I hope to see you again soon."

"Yeah, hit us up, homegirl!" Amethyst chimed in.

"Will do," said Ronnie Anne, giving the Crystal Gems one last wave goodbye before rushing out the door and down the stairs. Once she reached the last step, she made a mad dash across the beach, pumping her legs as hard as she could and sending blasts of sand bursting up from the dune every time her feet touched down. The whole time, her thought process was a discombobulated, incomprehensible mess of gibberish.

It didn't take long for her stamina to give out, probably because her heart was already working double time before she started running. Her pace slowed to a speed-walk, then a regular walk, and then a limp, before her legs finally gave up and she collapsed onto the beach. She used her remaining energy to roll onto her back, and let herself sink deep into the soft sandbar.

A mild, comforting chill enveloped her skin, and she broke into an open-mouthed grin, through which a contented sigh escaped.

* * *

Ronnie Anne, having reached a satisfying conclusion, took off the goggles and placed them back on her nightstand. She took moment to survey the world around her, let her eyes get reaccustomed to the non-virtual world, and catch her breath. After letting herself fall backwards onto the bed with a _whump_ , she gazed down at her navel, watching the rising and falling action of her diaphragm.

 _Wait. Why am I out of breath?_

She tentatively lay her hand across her chest, and felt her heart thumping against the inside of her ribcage.

 _Huh. That's odd..._

* * *

 **A/N: I realize that there are a lot of details about the Crystal Gems that they neglected to mention in their explanation to Ronnie Anne, but keep in mind that right now we're at a point that coincides with early-to-mid Season 1. Steven doesn't know how gem production works because "On the Run" hasn't happened yet, and he doesn't know about Homeworld because "Ocean Gem" hasn't happened yet, and it'd be kind of awkward if the CGs tried to explain those things to Ronnie Anne before they explained them to Steven.**


	7. It's a Date

Chapter 7: It's a Date

It was times like these that made Ronnie Anne long for the luxury of a big family. She knew of the disadvantages, as Lincoln would often complain to her about the constant meddling, the lack of privacy, and the precious little attention he got from his parents in times of need.

But right now, Ronnie Anne was yearning for the guidance of someone as smart as Lisa, as articulate as Lucy, or as witty as Luan. Tomorrow, Lincoln would be expecting to hear every detail from her journey through the multiverse, and she had to come up with a way to retell it without making herself sound completely insane.

 _Shapeshifting aliens? Monster hunting? He's going to think I'm a_ _lunatic_ _!_

As it was, the only two people Ronnie Anne could seek out for help were Bobby (who was a bit of a dope) and her mother (who'd probably just lecture her for "playing with toys" when she should be studying). All she could do at this point was go to sleep and reassure herself that she'd come up with something overnight.

Fortunately, she _did_ have someone who could help her with that. After setting the goggles down on her nightstand, she reached under her bedsheets and retrieved a longtime friend of hers - an amber-furred stuffed monkey.

"Good night, Ki-Ki," she whispered, wrapping her arms around the doll and squeezing it tight against her chest. She'd never admit it to anyone, but the feeling of Ki-Ki's soft, plush body next to hers had a soothing effect on her psyche. As long as he was nestled in her arms, she could convince herself that everything was going to be okay, regardless of the circumstances. Before long, all her anxiety vanished and she drifted off into slumber.

* * *

Her anxiety, unfortunately, was still waiting for her eight hours later when she woke up. As soon as she stepped out of bed, it snuck up on her and crept back into her mind, stinging her with the chilling realization that she still had barely a clue how she was going to describe last night's session to Lincoln.

On the positive side, her nervousness made for an effective antidote to her usual morning grogginess, and she breezed through her morning routine in half the time it usually took her. Once she got downstairs for breakfast, her mother marveled at the fact that she was already dressed and packed without having to be called even once. Ronnie Anne muttered some comment about going to bed early, wolfed down her scrambled eggs and toast and hopped into the car, where Bobby was waiting for her in the driver's seat.

"Hey, Nie-Nie, there's something I've been meaning to ask you about," he said as he pulled out of the driveway. "What's with that new gadget I see you using nowadays?"

Ronnie Anne gulped. As if the day wasn't anxious enough already, now she had to explain the multiverse goggles to Bobby. She only barely understood how they worked herself, and while Bobby was a pretty easygoing dude, she wasn't sure how he'd feel about her meddling with other dimensions.

"Um... just something I borrowed from the Louds," she said. "You know Lori's little sister, Lisa?"

"The smart one?"

"Yeah, her. She gave me this pair of goggles that... uh..."

Knowing that Bobby would get suspicious if she hesitated for too long, Ronnie Anne just spat out the first thing that came to her head.

"...play movies! They play movies."

Technically, it wasn't a _total_ lie; at times, she did feel like she was watching a movie while the goggles were in use.

"Oh, neat!" said Bobby. "Maybe one of these days you can let me try 'em."

"Maybe," she said, squirming in her car seat and fiddling with her seat belt. "They're not mine, though. You'd have to ask Lisa."

Bobby chuckled. "Well, all right, then. Next time I'm over at the Louds', I'll ask."

And those were the last words spoken between them for the remainder of the car ride. Rather than making conversation, Ronnie Anne opted to stare out the window, waiting for the schoolyard to come into view - which it did, after about fifteen minutes. By the entrance, she spied a certain ashen-haired boy giving her a wave.

Ironically, the sight of Lincoln waving to her in the schoolyard _tempered_ her anxiety instead of exacerbating it. Though she cared an awful lot what he thought of her, in-person he was just about the least intimidating person she could imagine. Those wide, cutesy eyes, that goofy smile, that physique that looked like it'd struggle to resist a gentle breeze... simply put, that "Lame-O" moniker she bestowed upon him didn't just come out of nowhere.

By the time the two of them convened for lunch, she was still a little apprehensive, but far more relaxed than she had been that morning. She took out the goggles, shoved them across the table towards Lincoln, and promptly started the conversation.

"You're not gonna _believe_ what happened in my time last night. You should probably be sitting down for this."

Lincoln eyed her confusedly. "I _am_ sitting down."

"It's a figure of speech, Lame-O," Ronnie Anne said with a roll of her eyes. "Anyway, Steven met me on the beach and took me over to his house. It was, like, _way_ out at the end of the beach, at least a mile away from the city."

That first detail elicited a pair of raised eyebrows from Lincoln. "Okay, that's a little weird."

"It gets weirder. Behind his house, he had this _huge_ statue of a four-armed lady with two faces."

Lincoln's eyes started to bulge out of their sockets, and his jaw crept open. "I'm afraid to ask, but was _that_ the weird part?"

"Not even close. You remember, Pearl, right? Well, when I came in, she was in the kitchen making me some tea, and there were two other women with her. A tall, black one named Garnet, and a short, chubby one named Amethyst."

"...huh. So which one of them was Steven's mom?"

"None of them. They're..."

Ronnie Anne paused, trying to come up with a way to explain their unique relationship to Steven. "...I guess you could call them his guardians. They're training him to be a member of this team called the Crystal Gems."

"The Crystal Gems, huh?" asked Lincoln, taking a sip of his milk - at the worst possible moment to do so, in hindsight.

"Yeah. They're this team of monster hunting aliens, and they-"

 _*PHHHHHBBBBBT*_

Lincoln, bewildered by this unforseen turn of events, spat a mouthful of milk all over the table. Ronnie Anne thanked her lucky stars that she was sitting across from him, or else she would've been doused.

" _What_?!" he cried, too stunned to bother cleaning up after himself. " _Aliens_?! Wha... where did _this_ come from?!"

The tension in Ronnie Anne's gut started to heighten again. Apparently, her warning did little to temper the incredulity of his response. She sat up, took a deep breath, locked eyes with the bemused boy, and prepared to tackle what would be the hardest task of the day: convincing Lincoln that she wasn't crazy.

She spent the rest of the lunch period relaying every detail of her meeting with the Crystal Gems, from Amethyst's shapeshifting demonstration, to the Gems' explanation of Steven's complicated family situation, to Steven's incredible demonstration of strength.

"...and then I left after getting his number," she concluded. "I swear I'm not making any of this up!"

"Believe me, I don't think you're lying," said Lincoln, as he began to mop up his mess with a napkin. "I mean, I couldn't make that stuff up if I tried. But I thought the only thing different about this timeline was that you moved to a different city! How did aliens come into the picture?!"

"You're asking the wrong girl, Lame-O," Ronnie Anne said, throwing up her hands. "Maybe my moving to Beach City triggered something else. I don't know. You'll have to ask Lisa."

"I guess I will," muttered Lincoln, as he dropped the goggles into his backpack. "You know, I almost want to give you another turn with these. Your side of the timeline sounds way more interesting than mine."

Ronnie Anne shook her head vigorously, causing her ponytail to swing back and forth like a pendulum. "No way, José. I need a day to recover after what I saw. It's your turn."

With that, the two of them rose from the table and went to recycle their trays, just moments before the bell rang. "Besides, who knows? Maybe your side turns out to be just as insane as mine."

Lincoln gave off a shudder of anxiety, or possibly anticipation. He honestly hadn't considered that, but now that Ronnie Anne brought it up, he couldn't stop thinking about it. What if Connie turned out to be an alien, too? Or a cyborg? Or an alien cyborg?

The possibilities dominated his thoughts for the rest of the day. He played back every one of his encounters with Connie in his head, looking for any signs of an anomaly - a hint that, maybe, she wasn't fully human. As far as he could tell, she was a pretty normal, albeit painfully bashful, pre-teen girl.

But that only made him even more anxious to strap the goggles on. Maybe _this_ would be the session that revealed some unforseen plot twist. After all, he and Ronnie Anne were technically looking at the same universe, from two different perspectives. If aliens arrived on earth in her timelines, they must have arrived in his, too. The only question was when, if ever, he'd encounter them.

By the time Lori pulled into the driveway, the suspense had elevated to near-torturous levels. He jumped out of the car, bolted through the front door, gave a hasty greeting to his sisters lounging in the living room, bounded up the stairs, dove into his room, leaped onto his bed and strapped the goggles on.

* * *

 _3:00 p.m._

 _October 6_

 _Royal Woods Academy Study Hall_

Over the course of the past few weeks, Lincoln and Connie had -

* * *

Lincoln took off the goggles.

 _Wait a second. Did I just leap forward three weeks? How does_ _that_ _work?_

Lincoln knew that if he didn't get that question answered, it'd be pestering him throughout the entire session. As such, he decided to seek an answer from Lisa, who he was planning on seeing later that day anyway.

He walked out of his room, rapped on Lisa and Lily's door, and was greeted with a nasally, "Come in." He opened the door to see Lisa crouched over the table, scribbling something down into her notebook.

"Oh, sorry, is this a bad time?" asked Lincoln.

"Not at all," said Lisa, as she continued to write. "I'm just jotting down the results of an experiment I did earlier today. I can spare a moment or two to assist you."

Lincoln took a couple of steps inside, closing the door behind him as he did. "You know those goggles you lent me? The ones that let you see into an alternate timeline?"

"What about them?"

"Well, see, I tried using them today, and it took me to a point in the timeline three weeks later than the last time I used them. Why's that?"

Lisa paused for a moment, twiddling her pencil in her hand. "Well, Lincoln, as the goggles were not my invention, I can't tell you for certain how they work," she said. "But I _did_ come up with a hypothesis after using it for a few hours. I hypothesize that the device automatically homes in on pivotal moments in your alternate self's life, based on his body language, stimulation of the amygdala, and other factors. That would prevent you from being forced to watch yourself, say, brush your teeth or use the lavatory."

Lincoln rubbed his chin, mulling over Lisa's response. Aside from the fact that he had no idea what an "amygdala" was, he understood the gist of her explanation. "I guess that'd make sense."

"It would," said Lisa. "Is that all you wanted to ask me about?"

"Sorry, no," said Lincoln. "There's another thing. See, Ronnie Anne told me about her timeline today, and it's... pretty out there."

For the first time since Lincoln entered the room, Lisa put her pencil down. "Define 'out there'," she said, taking on a tone of intrigue.

"Well, she said that she met this team of monster hunters called the Crystal Gems. And they're, like, space aliens who can shapeshift, and also I guess they can breed with humans because she met this one kid who's half-alien, and-"

Lincoln paused in the middle of his rambling once he noticed that Lisa still hadn't bothered to turn her head. Her face was completely obscured, and for all he knew she was concealing a look of either abject horror or bewildered amusement.

"I-I don't sound crazy, do I?" he asked. "I swear, this was what Ronnie Anne told me."

Lisa hopped off her stool and turned to face Lincoln; to his relief, aside from a slightly heightened pair of eyebrows, her face had maintained its default expression of unenthused contemplation. "No, Lincoln, I don't doubt the veracity of Ronnie Anne's story, or of your clumsy attempt to relay it to me. Infinite timelines bear infinite possibilities, including one in which we were visited by extraterrestrials. Though I didn't expect such a monumental difference to exist in a timeline that, according to my cursory glance, appeared to be near-identical to ours."

Lincoln let out a light, wispy sigh, taking solace in the reassurance that neither he nor his quasi-girlfriend were losing their sanity. But just after he expelled that knot of tension from his gut, another one sprouted in its place.

 _Connie_.

Lincoln had seen a glimpse of the timid Indian girl when he began to use the goggles a moment ago. If Lisa's hypothesis regarding the goggles' functioning was correct, then it was no coincidence that every single one of his sessions was centered around Connie. For the bulk of the school year, she was going to dominate Alt-Lincoln's world, and there was no getting around the fact that, sooner or later, he'd have to tell Ronnie Anne about her.

"Now, is _that_ all you wanted to see me about?" asked Lisa, snapping him out of his troubled thought process.

"N-no," muttered Lincoln. "There... there's one more thing. It's... um..."

It occurred to Lincoln that he was fully poised to ask his preschool-aged little sister for relationship advice. He couldn't have looked sillier and more desperate if he tried.

"Well?" asked Lisa, a hint of annoyance creeping into her voice.

"I-it's about Ronnie Anne," Lincoln finally spat out. As foolish as he felt, he had to accept the fact that Lisa was the only one who understood the whole multiverse deal, and was thus the only one who could help him. "See, in the alternate universe, me and her never meet, and-"

"She and I," Lisa corrected.

"Yeah, whatever. Anyway, I meet this _other_ girl, named Connie, and it looks like I - that is, the _other_ me is going to start dating her soon."

Lisa gazed up at her older brother with a flat expression on her face. "I fail to see what the problem is."

Lincoln groaned. It was easy to forget that Lisa, in spite of her prodigious intellect, had a) a measly four years of experience on the planet, and b) a limited social life. Of _course_ she wouldn't see what the problem was; she knew as much about dating as Leni did about quantum physics.

"Lisa, every day this week, me and Ronnie - I mean, Ronnie Anne and I have been meeting at lunch to talk about our alternate selves. I'll have to tell her eventually that Connie's dating the other me. What if she gets jealous?"

"That would be entirely unreasonable," said Lisa, "given the fact that you have no control over the actions of your alternate self."

"Yeah, I know," said Lincoln, scratching the back of his head. "But what if she gets angry anyway? How am I supposed to deal with that?"

Lincoln could see Lisa's eyes narrowing behind her glasses. "Well, Lincoln, as you know, I'm not exactly what you'd call a casanova - or whatever the female equivalent of a casanova is. But if I were in your proverbial shoes, I would calmly explain to her why her anger is illogical."

Lincoln gulped. "Yeah, I don't know if that'd work with her," he said.

"Why not?" asked Lisa. "Assuming she's a rational human being, it should."

"But what if she doesn't-"

"'But what if' this, 'but what if' that!" snapped Lisa. "Lincoln, I'm genuinely curious; when you envision interactions with your significant other, why does your mind automatically gravitate towards the worst possible scenario? Is she really that much of a monster to you?"

Suddenly, Lincoln's eyes burst open with clarity. _Monster_. That one word triggered a flashback to his ill-fated class project with Ronnie Anne, that had both of them assigned to take care of an egg for a few days. Lincoln, fearing that Ronnie Anne would be too rough with the egg, kept it away from her for the entire school day, and when he finally did let her take it home with her, he plotted to swap it out with a rubber decoy. When Ronnie Anne found out, she was, understandably, more than a little upset.

 _"So, that's what you think of me? That I'm such a_ _monster_ _that I can't be left alone with an egg?!"_

It occurred to Lincoln that she would likely be just as hurt if she heard what he said about her to Lisa. Had he learned _nothing_ from that incident? Why was he still so cowed by a girl who only wanted him to see her as a friend he could trust?

"N-no. No she's not," he uttered, hanging his head in shame.

"Then stop treating her like one," Lisa said sharply. "And if, by chance, she _does_ react with even more hostility, then I don't think you should be tolerating that kind of behavior from her. Grow a spine, for Pete's sake."

Lincoln sighed. There was little doubt that Ronnie Anne was the one who wore the pants in their relationship. It made sense; after all, she was a school bully who made her classmates fear for their lives during every game of dodgeball, while he was a scrawny nerd who was almost always picked last for said games, if at all. Nevertheless, if he wanted their relationship to be a healthy one, he'd have to start sticking up for himself.

"You're right," he admitted.

"As usual," said Lisa. "Now is _that_ the last thing you wanted to speak to me about?"

"Yes."

Lisa pointed towards the door. "In that case, you're excused."

Though he sensed that Lisa's patience was practically nil at this point, Lincoln still felt the need to end their encounter on a positive note.

"Thanks, by the way," he said, giving her a faint smile. "I feel a lot better."

"You're welcome. Now shoo."

Lincoln complied, turning around and ambling back to his room. With his mind cleared and his lingering doubts resolved, he was fully prepared to take whatever the multiverse could throw at him.

* * *

 _3:00 p.m._

 _October 6_

 _Royal Woods Academy Study Hall_

Over the course of the past few weeks, Lincoln and Connie had gotten into a regular routine of meeting in the study hall after school to work on homework (and, time permitting, gush over Dogcopter). The sessions were partially an excuse to spend more time with Connie, though he did appreciate her help when it came to explaining complex concepts. At the moment, Connie was helping Lincoln out with the following algebra problem:

 _g / 12 = 8 x_ _6_

"The first part's easy enough," said Lincoln. "Just multiply both sides by twelve, right?"

"Mm-hmm," said Connie.

"So now I know that g equals 48 times 12. But..."

A hint of frustration seeped into Lincoln's tone. "...but where do I go from here?! It's not like I've memorized my times tables for 48."

"You don't have to!" said Connie. "Just break up the problem into manageable parts. Here, I'll show you."

She took out her pencil and started marking up Lincoln's assignment sheet.

"Let's take that 48 and cut it down to size," she said. "It'll be a lot easier if you think of it as four twelves."

 _g = 12 x 48_

 _12 x 48 = 12 x (12 + 12 + 12 + 12)_

"Now, what's twelve times twelve?"

"144," said Lincoln, without even having to think about it.

"Exactly right. So, now, you can just use the distributive property to figure out the rest."

Lincoln didn't want Connie to feel like she was holding his hand (figuratively speaking), so he took the paper away from her, snatched up his pencil and finished it on his own, like so:

 _12 x (12 + 12 + 12 + 12)_

 _144 + 144 + 144 + 144_

 _288 + 288_

 _ **g = 576**_

"Done!" cried Lincoln. "Gosh, thanks, Connie! I can't believe it never occurred to me that I could just... well... do _that_. Where'd you learn that trick?"

"Well, I wouldn't really call it a 'trick'," said Connie, scratching the back of her neck. "It's just easier to work with a lot of small numbers than one big one. Once you know that, a lot of these problems are pretty simple."

Lincoln brought a hand to his chin, gazing at the freshly-solved problem on his paper while he mulled over that statement. Connie hadn't just helped him with that particular problem; she had given him a pearl of invaluable wisdom, one that would doubtlessly make his algebra class a lot less headache-inducing.

"Connie, I don't know what to say," he said. "You...you're..."

He looked up into Connie's bespectacled eyes, with a look of wonderment in his own. "...you're so _smart_."

Connie shrunk away from Lincoln, as her gaze darted off to the side. "Y-you think so?"

"How could I not?" asked Lincoln. "This problem was giving me a migraine, and you solved it like _that_. I can't thank you enough."

"T-thank you," squeaked Connie, as she continued to avert his gaze.

Lincoln muttered a, "You're welcome," and went back to his algebra homework, breezing through it with considerable ease now that he knew what to do. But as helpful as Connie's advice was, there was another task he had promised himself to complete by the end of the study hall - and this one didn't involve numbers or variables.

He had pledged that this would be the day he asked Connie out.

 _Come on,_ _Linc_ , he thought as he blazed through problem after problem, pausing sporadically to look up at his prospective date. _You've got nothing to lose and everything to gain. What's the worst thing she could say? "No"?_

Upon finishing the last problem on the page, he glanced at his watch and noticed that a half hour had passed since their study session began. As their sessions seldom exceeded forty-five minutes, Lincoln suspected that his window of opportunity was starting to close. It was now or never.

"Hey, Connie? There's something I wanted to ask you."

Connie looked up from her homework. "Hmm? Another math question?"

"No, I finished that," said Lincoln. "You know, these study sessions have been really helping me out these past few weeks. I was wondering if you'd be up for another one over the weekend?"

"What, like at the library?"

 _All right, Linc. You've gone this far already. There's no turning back._

"Actually, I was thinking that maybe it'd be fun if we did it at your house."

Connie gasped and clamped a hand over her mouth, as her pupils shrunk into pinpricks. "M-my house?"

Lincoln leaned back, out of an instinctive desire to give her some space. "What's the matter? We're friends, aren't we?"

"N-no, we are," stammered Connie. "It's just... well..."

She sported a blush that was just bright enough to be visible against her sienna skin. "...I've never had a boy over before."

"Oh."

Lincoln scooted a bit closer to her, wielding a disarming smile. "Well, there's a first time for everything, isn't there?"

Up until that moment, "intimidating" was never a word that Lincoln would think to use to describe himself. But his invitation (which, to be fair, was a little forward) made Connie shrink into her seat like a frightened little mouse.

"W-well, here's the thing," whispered Connie, tangling her fingers in binds of thick, black hair. "My parents are, um- how do I put this- conservative. Traditional. Well, my mom is, at least."

A chill ran up Lincoln's spine. He was old enough to know that both of those were codewords for "overprotective and nigh-impossible to please". He already felt like he was walking on eggshells around her; he didn't want to think about how much worse it would be with a stone-featured authoritarian looking over his shoulder.

"I think they would prefer it if they, you know, got to know your family first," said Connie. "Maybe we could set up a dinner? You, me, your parents and mine?"

The suggestion sent Lincoln's brain into a flip-flopping frenzy. As he attempted to reach a decision, he looked away from Connie and produced a low, drawn out, "Ummmm..." from his throat, just to spare her from the awkwardness of a prolonged silence.

 _On one hand, this would be a great opportunity to get closer to her. On the other hand, it'll be pretty much impossible to keep Connie a secret from my sisters once the date is set up. On the_ _other_ _hand, I can't keep her hidden from them forever, can I? On the other hand-_

"Well?" asked Connie.

"Sure!" Lincoln blurted out in a fit of impulsive panic. For that, he earned a few scattered shushes from around the study hall, and he muttered an apology in response. Afterwards, he turned back to Connie, and was taken aback once he saw her brandishing a disarming smile of her own.

"'Sure'?" she parroted. "So it's a date?"

 _Oh, geez. Me and my big mouth._

Lincoln knew full well that there was only one way he could answer that question. Oh, sure, she would have been disappointed if he told her "no" outright, but she would be _crushed_ if he tried to renege on a "yes". What would he even say to justify it? "Sike"? "Just kidding"? "Sorry, I changed my mind in the past second"? Any excuse he tried to formulate would be beyond callous. Even as he hesitated, he could see her smile starting to shrink.

"Yeah," he said. "Yeah, it's a date."

"Great!" chirped Connie, regaining her smile. "I'll tell my parents about it tonight and we'll set something up. See you this weekend!"

With that, she packed up her backpack, slung it over her shoulder, and strode out the door, bidding Lincoln goodbye with a finger-twiddling wave. As soon as she left the premises, he collapsed back into his seat and let his head fall into his opened palms. At this point, he was unsure of whether he wanted to feel satisfied that she agreed to a date...

...or dismayed that, of all the possible setups, he agreed to the one that would be the most awkward and the most likely to end in disaster.


	8. It's Another Date

Dinner that night was a rather uneventful affair for Lincoln. He was too caught up in his thoughts to engage with the rest of his family, and questions from his parents were almost always met with flat, laconic answers ("So, how's school?" "Good." "Making any new friends?" "Not really.") He didn't even react when his little sister Lana tossed a gob of mashed potatoes at him, in an attempt to start a food fight (much to her confusion). Part of him was itching to talk a little more about his alternate timeline with Lisa, but he knew that once the rest of his sisters knew about the goggles, they'd all want a turn with them, so he held his tongue.

After dinner, Lincoln figured that there was no harm in giving the goggles another go. Having finished his homework and read all his comic books, it wasn't as if he had anything else to do; besides, he was wondering whether his alternate self would continue to keep Connie a secret from his sisters (sans Lucy).

* * *

 _4:30 p.m._

 _October 6_

 _The Loud House_

Lincoln sat on the couch with his ever-twiddling fingers in his lap. At this point, he had his exact course of action planned out in his head; once his mom came home from work, he would walk her into the kitchen and tell her about his planned dinner with Connie, out of his sisters' collective earshot. Since most of them were upstairs doing homework, he figured that there was little, if any, risk of his plan getting loused up.

As he expected, Rita walked through the door about half past four, looking appropriately weary and frazzled from a full day of work. Out of courteousness, Lincoln gave her a moment to hang up her coat and put her handbag down on the easy chair before approaching her.

"Hey, mom?" he said, rising off the couch as soon as Rita put down her bag.

"Oh, hello, Lincoln. How was your day?"

"It was okay. Do you have a minute?" He gently took her by the wrist and used his other hand to gesture towards the kitchen.

"Of course, dear," said Rita, following Lincoln into said kitchen. "What's on your mind?"

"Well, see, there's this new girl at school named Connie, and..."

Lincoln paused, as he sensed a shift in his mother's facial expression. Sure enough, once he got a better look, he noticed a burgeoning smile.

"Oh, don't mind me, Lincoln," said Rita. "Go on."

"...well, see, she and I have been hanging out a lot lately. You know, getting to know each other. And she wants to set up a dinner... thing." Lincoln tried to skirt around using the word "date", knowing that the word would send his mother into an excited frenzy. "With me, you, Dad, and her parents."

Rita's smile swelled in size; apparently, Lincoln's avoidance of the "d" word did little to quell her excitement. "Aww, my little boy is growing up!"

"Shhh!" hissed Lincoln, nipping Rita's smile in the bud before it could grow any bigger. "Not so loud! I don't want my sisters to hear."

"You don't?" asked Rita. "Why not? I'm sure they'd love to hear the news."

"That's the problem. If they hear about the dinner, they're going to want to come with us."

Rita raised an eyebrow at him. "And?"

"Well, you see...uh..."

Lincoln paused and looked up at his mother, who was sporting an uncomfortably vague frown. He couldn't quite discern what she was trying to convey. Disappointment? Suspicion? Hurt? Lincoln knew he would have to brace himself for at least one of those if he didn't pick his next words carefully.

Fortunately, it was at this moment that he recalled something Connie said to him earlier that day:

 _"My parents are, um- how do I put this- conservative. Traditional. Well, my mom is, at least."_

 _Bingo._

"See, Connie's parents are kind of traditional," said Lincoln. "You know, nuclear family. If they see that you have eleven kids, they might frown upon that."

"Hmm..."

Rita drew her hand towards her chin, stroking it. Lincoln couldn't tell if her furrowed brow was meant to signify deep thought or disapproval; in truth, it was a bit of both. Granted, one could argue that a family who would judge her for having a lot of kids wasn't a family that was worth befriending. On the other hand, she didn't want to keep her growing son away from a girl he was interested in.

"But Lincoln," she said, "they're going to find out eventually, aren't they?"

Lincoln, ever the quick thinker, already had an answer prepared. "Here's my thinking; first, we let them get to know us. You know, introduce ourselves, befriend them. And then, by the time they've grown to like us, the fact that we have such a big family won't matter to them!"

After taking a moment to process Lincoln's suggestion, Rita looked down and gave her son an approving smile. "Okay, Lincoln. I'll do it!"

"Great!" cried Lincoln, pumping his fist. "But remember, don't tell my sisters. I don't want to hurt their feelings."

"Don't worry, Lincoln. Your secret is safe with me."

After a firm handshake, Rita began to turn away from Lincoln, only to see him gesture for her to wait.

"Hold on. Before you go, here's Connie's home number."

Lincoln pulled out his phone, scrolled over to Connie's name in his contact list, and read the number aloud - just loud enough for Rita to hear without alerting the attention of anyone else in the house. Once Rita programmed the number into her own phone, the two parted ways. As soon as he heard her bedroom door close behind her, Lincoln heaved out a huge sigh and collapsed backward onto the couch. It was as if a massive weight had been lifted from his shoulders. With a little bit of quick thinking, he had managed to salvage what could have otherwise been a horribly awkward affair.

* * *

Meanwhile, the _other_ Lincoln was facing a similar obstacle. The difference was that he planned to overcome it not through deception and secrecy, but through earnestness and trust. He only hoped it would work just as well.

In the hours leading up to their next multiverse lunch, Lincoln had rehearsed what he was going to say several times over, mapping out a plan for every conceivable response he could predict from Ronnie Anne. Depending on how the conversation went, he was ready to employ reason, logic, guilt-tripping, appeals to her sensibilities, and in a worst-case scenario, shameless begging. Once the two of them took their seats at the lunch table, he felt like a star actor prancing onto the stage on opening night. It was his time.

"So, how was your session last night?" she asked.

 _Hmm... standard opening_ , thought Lincoln. _Nothing too difficult yet._

"Pretty cool," he said. "Remember that new girl I meet, Connie?"

Ronnie's eyelids flipped open just a bit. "Oh, yeah. You haven't mentioned her in a while. What's up with her?"

 _Okay, good_ _. No signs of jealousy or resentment yet._

"Well, we- I mean, she and my alternate self just set up a dinner," he said. "It'll be me, her, my parents and her parents."

"Mm-hmm."

A moment of silence ensued as Ronnie Anne took her eyes off of him and went back to her lunch. Even after all of his preparation, this was an outcome that Lincoln hadn't anticipated. Jealousy, anger, worry, and even excitement were all reactions he had counted as possibilities. But _apathy_?

Lincoln kept his gaze locked on her as she ate, waiting for her to make another move. Surely, he thought, she'd have something more to say to him than just, "Mm-hmm."

But he thought wrong. That was the last word she spoke to him about the subject. Or, rather, it would have been, if she hadn't noticed him staring at her out of the corner of her eye.

"What?" she asked, looking up from her food. "Why do you keep looking at me like you're expecting me to say something?"

Lincoln gulped. He could sense that he was veering into dangerous territory. "Um- no reason. I mean, not _no_ reason, but-"

"You expected me to be jealous, didn't you?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.

"N-no!" cried Lincoln, desperate to avoid a repeat of the whole egg baby fiasco. Unfortunately, his nervousness and desire for reassurance got the best of him, and the following addendum squeaked its way out of his mouth:

"I mean... you're not, are you?"

Every muscle in Lincoln's body locked up and froze as soon as the last word left his lips. He sorely wished he could grab those words and shove them back into his mouth. Alas, he couldn't, and now all he could do was brace himself for the inevitable chewing out.

But to his surprise, Ronnie Anne did nothing of the sort. On the contrary: she _laughed_. Ronnie Anne kicked her head back and cackled, smacking the table. "Gosh, that's priceless. That's really something."

Lincoln experienced a brief feeling of relief upon hearing that raspy laugh of hers, which ended a second later when she rose from her chair and started walking over towards his seat. Before he even had time to maneuver, she put the boy in a headlock and gave him a light noogie.

"Was wittle Winky afwaid that I was gonna be angwy? Hmm?"

"H-hey! Cut it out!" exclaimed Lincoln, his cry interspersed with short bursts of laughter. In a weird way, he liked it when Ronnie Anne played rough with him, though that didn't happen quite as often as it did when they first started dating. He suspected it was because of her growing maturity, and consequently, her fear that she could hurt him if she wasn't careful. Regardless, he couldn't help but feel giddy when she gave him the occasional noogie or bear hug.

"See why I call you Lame-O?" she asked as she released the hold. "You don't have to be so afraid of me, y'know. You're my boyfriend, not my puppy."

Lincoln chuckled, as his cheeks assumed a light shade of red in response to her emasculating (but accurate) assessment of his behavior.

"O-okay, I'll keep that in mind," he said. "Oh, and here are the goggles."

He took them out of his backpack and gently tossed them to her.

"Thanks," she said as she caught them and dropped them into her own backpack. "By the way, where do you want to meet up tomorrow to get the goggles back?"

Lincoln's eyes flipped open. He was going to suggest that they just meet at school like they usually do, but it suddenly dawned on him that today was Friday. _How in the heck did I forget that?_

"Um, how about the Royal Woods Park?" he suggested. "I'll meet you there around noon."

"Sounds good," she said. "Actually, now that I think about it, why don't we make a date out of it?"

Lincoln peered at her with intrigue. "A date?"

"Sure! We'll bring a frisbee and a picnic lunch, and just, you know, spend a few hours hanging out."

She looked back at him, giving him a light smile that put her buck teeth (which he always found to be pretty cute) on display. "To be honest, with all the time I've been spending with the goggles, I've kind of missed spending time with _you_."

Lincoln, knowing full well he couldn't turn down such a heartfelt request, gave her a sharp nod. "I'd love to!" he said. "I'll meet you outside the big fountain in the center. See you then!"

And with that, the two of them parted ways. For the remainder of the school day, Ronnie Anne found herself feeling far less anxious about the upcoming session than she usually did. In the two days since her extended session, she had come to accept the fantastical nature of her alternate timeline, and it helped that she had just reassured Lincoln (and herself) that their relationship was just fine. So while she had no way of knowing what to expect for her next venture into the multiverse, she was pretty confident that it wouldn't be anything she couldn't handle.

In fact, once she got home, it took her a couple of hours before she even _touched_ the goggles again. She took extra care to do a thorough job on all her homework, since she knew she wouldn't have any time to do it tomorrow. Furthermore, if her grades started slipping, her mom would invariably blame the goggles and forbid her from using them.

And worse, Ronnie Anne wouldn't blame her. She _was_ getting a little more invested in that gadget than she wanted to admit. Part of the reason she set up that date with Lincoln was to stave off her persistent fear that she'd end up more involved with her alternate timeline than her current timeline. But she took solace in the fact that she at least recognized that danger, and was doing what she could do avert it.

For the time being, anyway.


	9. Magical Gem Stuff

_1:30 p.m._

 _August 5_

 _Beach City_

The next couple of weeks flew by for Ronnie Anne. Despite her initial apprehension, she had come to appreciate the time she and Steven had together. Every other day or so, the two of them would meet on the Beach City boardwalk, and Steven would show her around, introducing her to everything the city had to offer. She learned, for instance, that Beach Citywalk Fries, the local french fry stand, would give you a bag of "fry bits" - the little pieces of french fry left over in the fryer - if you asked for them. Or, more accurately, if you banged your fists on the counter and chanted, "The-bits! The-bits! The-bits! The-bits!", which brought Ronnie Anne no shortage of amusement.

As she ambled down the boardwalk to meet Steven for lunch, a chilly breeze flitted by her - a sobering reminder that August had just started and summer was gradually giving way to fall. Ronnie Anne frowned, regretting the fact that she hadn't made any real effort to make friends until Steven approached her. Regardless, she figured she could at least make the most of the few remaining weeks of summer she had. Today, she and Steven would be meeting at Fish Stew Pizza for lunch, and then they'd take a walk over to the arcade for a few rounds of Meat Beat Mania.

Or, at least, that was the plan.

Once she made it to Fish Stew Pizza, she took a seat at a bench just outside the restaurant and waited. A few minutes later, she heard Steven call her name, and looked up to see him greeting her with his usual smile and wave. Up until that point, the day was shaping up to be a pretty typical outing. That changed, however, when Ronnie Anne spied a figure that, unbeknownst to him, was following closely behind.

Her heart lodged itself in her throat.

Steven was being stalked by a _lion_.

And not an ordinary looking lion, either. A lion with a hot pink fur coat, and a long flowing mane of the same color, that appeared to have the consistency of cotton candy. Unless the lion had taken a dive through a paint factory, there was only one explanation for the lion's bizarre appearance; this was one of the monsters the Crystal Gems had told her about.

"S-S-Steven!" she stammered, nearly choking on her own tongue. "Look...look behind you!"

Steven lost his smile and twisted his head around, looking over his shoulder. Ronnie Anne steeled herself, expecting that at any moment she'd have to rush in to help Steven defeat the beast. To her surprise, however, she wouldn't have to do anything of the sort, as Steven regained his smile, walked up to the lion and gave him a big hug around the neck.

"Aww, Lion! Did you follow me all the way here?"

Ronnie Anne rubbed her eyes in disbelief. "You... I... that... that thing's your _pet_?!"

"Sure is!" said Steven, in a tone that suggested there was nothing odd about the situation. "I found him on a mission in the desert a few days ago. He really seemed to like me, so I convinced the Gems to let me keep him!"

He walked over to the still-flabbergasted Ronnie Anne, with the lion following behind. "Ronnie Anne, I'd like you to meet my new friend, Lion," he said. "Lion, this is Ronnie Anne."

Ronnie Anne's heart quivered as the king of beasts approached her. Despite Steven's insistence that he was friendly, she couldn't help but feel apprehensive; after all, she'd never been this close to a lion before, and she'd never even _seen_ one with such a peculiar color.

Her fear deflated, however, once she saw Lion gingerly hold his paw out to her. And once he got closer, there was another thing she noticed that helped ease her nerves; while he may have had the body of a lion, he had the face of an oversized house cat. He had a pair of wide, youthful, ever-curious eyes, sitting just atop a cute little button nose that was just begging to be booped. Who on Earth could be afraid of a face like that?

"N...nice to meet you, Mr. Lion," she said, taking him by the paw and giving him a shake.

"It's just Lion," said Steven.

"Right. Lion."

After the shake, Lion lifted his paw and started stroking her raven hair, causing her to give off a nervous giggle.

"Aw, I think he likes you!" squealed Steven. "You and Lion are gonna get along famously. I just know it."

Steven's swooning was interrupted, however, when his stomach suddenly emitted a low grumble. "...but for now, let's get some lunch."

Ronnie Anne nodded, and the two of them approached the entrance to Fish Stew Pizza. Right before they reached the door, Steven turned around to face Lion and gave him a stern, authoritative look.

"Now, Lion, I don't want you running off again. You're going to stay right here until we're done eating. And if you do, I'll give you a treat. Understand?"

Lion grunted in response, which Steven took as a yes. The two of them walked into the pizzeria, and were promptly greeted by a tall black teenage girl behind the counter, with a poofy bob haircut and large, golden earrings.

"How's it going, Steven?" the teenage girl asked, before her attention was drawn to the girl by his side. "And hey, um... you."

It occured to Ronnie Anne that she and the girl had interacted before, albeit briefly. She had seen her the few times she ate at Fish Stew Pizza, but she hadn't bothered to get her name, and her conversation with her was mostly limited to her making her order.

"Oh, hi, Jenny! This is Ronnie Anne. She's new in town. Ronnie Anne, this is Jenny."

It also occured to Ronnie Anne that she had a chance to make a good first impression with one of the Beach City regulars. At this point, She had grown pretty tired of being shy around strangers. For the first time in weeks, she found herself being introduced to a completely normal girl - not an alien, or a half-alien, or an animal - so she found the perfect opportunity to be her regular, brash self.

"'Sup, Jenny," she said with a smirk, kicking her head back to make her ponytail flip. "Steven's been showing me around Beach City the past couple weeks. It's not as cool as my hometown, but it's got its charm, I guess."

Jenny chuckled. "All right, Ronnie Anne. You can go ahead and throw all the shade you want, but once you see the best Beach City has to offer, you're gonna be changing your tune. So what'll it be, Steven?"

"The usual!" said Steven. "Sausage, onion and hot pepper flakes. That okay with you, Ronnie?"

Ronnie Anne shrugged. "Eh."

"I'll take _that_ as a yes," said Jenny. "Coming right up!"

As they enjoyed their food, Steven provided a few details about some of the adventures he'd gone on in her absence - while also asking Ronnie Anne what _she'd_ been up to, out of politeness. Ronnie Anne, not wanting to dwell on the fact that Steven's life was so much more interesting than hers, tersely answered his questions and polished off her pizza in little time. The two of them gave Jenny a smile and a wave goodbye as they exited.

* * *

"So we're going to the arcade, right?" Ronnie Anne asked as they walked out the door. As instructed, Lion was waiting for them in the exact same spot that Steven had left him in. Ronnie Anne was tickled when her eyes made contact with his; while Lion's body language was rigid and stoic, his eyes betrayed a puppy-like affection for his human companions.

"Well, that _was_ the plan," said Steven. "But now that this little guy's along for the ride," he added, giving Lion a pat on the nose, "I thought maybe we could do something with him."

He grabbed a fistful of Lion's cotton candy-like mane and used it to pull himself up onto Lion's back. "How'd you like to go for a ride?" he asked, maintaining his grip on the mane. "We can go anywhere you want."

Ronnie Anne felt a pang of apprehension, which she tried her best to suppress. "Eh, sure, why not? I never rode a lion before. Could be fun."

She reached up, planted her hands on Lion's lower back, and hoisted herself atop. As she adjusted herself and got comfortable, the fur from Lion's coat brushed up against her bare legs, tickling her.

"Hang on tight!" said Steven.

Ronnie Anne nodded and gripped Lion by his fur coat; however, this triggered a growl of pain from the beast, and she hastily let go.

"Not onto Lion, silly," Steven said with a chuckle. "Onto me!"

Ronnie Anne's heart skipped a beat. Over the past couple weeks, she'd been growing more and more comfortable around Steven, but their physical contact was limited to the occasional high-five. But now she was in a situation where she'd have to have her arms wrapped snugly around his waist - practically _spooning_ him. Worse, she knew full well that her only other choice was bearing the risk of falling off Lion mid-stride and breaking a bone. She gulped, did her best to ignore her mounting discomfort, scooted up closer to Steven and wrapped her arms around him tight.

"So, where do you wanna go?" asked Steven.

"I... um... ah..."

Ronnie Anne was tempted to say, "I don't care," but she knew that Steven was the kind of boy who'd insist on letting her choose. And the more time they spent making up their minds, the more time she'd be left stuck in the middle of the boardwalk, clinging onto Steven like a teddy bear in plain sight of countless passersby.

"...why don't we let Lion pick?" she suggested.

"Oh, hey, great idea!" cried Steven. "Good thinking, Ronnie Anne."

 _Yeah, you got that right_ , she thought to herself.

"All right, Lion, you heard her! Take us anywhere you want to go!"

And just like that, Lion reared back, let out a mighty roar, and took off in a dead sprint down the boardwalk. The sudden, startling change in velocity caused Ronnie Anne to yelp and squeeze Steven even tighter. After a few seconds, her body adjusted itself to the new speed, and she allowed herself to loosen her grip just a tad - not _too_ much. She wouldn't be letting go anytime soon, with the world around her zooming past her eyes and the winds buffeting her face.

To alleviate the sting of the latter, Ronnie Anne nestled her face into Steven's meaty shoulder. She had to admit, it felt comfortable, holding onto Steven like that. His shoulder so soft and pillowesque, his belly so supple and plush... the boy may have been half human and half gem, but he felt like a living teddy bear. That, and it was rather exhilirating to feel the breeze coursing through her hair, making her ponytail flutter about like a flag atop a mountain. Honestly, it was enough to make her hope that Lion never chose a destination; she was content to just let him take her around the-

"Wait, Lion! Don't go in the water!"

Ronnie Anne gasped and snapped her head up. As it turned out, she had gotten so comfortable during the ride that she had failed to pay attention to her surroundings. As it turned out, Lion had long since cleared the boardwalk, and was now bounding down the beach and headed straight towards the ocean. At this point, Ronnie Anne had two choices: bail, and risk a nasty fall, or hold on tight and try not to drown. Out of an eagerness to impress Steven with her courage and trust that he wouldn't let anything happen to her, she chose the latter. She clenched her eyes shut, held her breath, and waited to be submerged into the briny deep.

...and waited...

...and waited...

...until another exclamation from Steven forced her to open her eyes.

"You can walk on water?!" he cried. "Why don't you tell me you can do these things you do?!"

When she looked to the side, she found that - sure enough - Lion's feet were now resting atop the surface of the ocean, as if it were solid ground. Baffled, amazed and relieved all at once, Ronnie Anne collapsed into a fit of laughter as Lion bounded across the water. Occasionally, she'd look to the side and give a cheeky wave hello to awestruck swimmers and sailors.

 _This beats the arcade by a longshot, _Ronnie Anne thought. _You're just full of surprises, aren't you, Steven?_

But her excitement was tempered by a dash of worry. A momentary glance over her shoulder revealed that the shore was getting farther and farther away, making her wonder just where Lion planned on taking them and how long it would take to get there. And since they obviously didn't have the option of dismounting now, all they could do was hang on tight until Lion took them to dry land.

Fortunately, that wouldn't be too much longer. Out of nowhere, an unearthly sound erupted from Lion's maw, somewhere between a roar and a belch. A pink, blindingly bright halo of light shot out of his mouth, and rocketed across the surface of the water before stopping about fifty feet ahead. Once it stopped, it swirled about in place and swelled into a large, opaque circle. Before Ronnie Anne even had a chance to ask what was going on, Lion sprinted towards the light and dove headfirst into it. The next thing she knew, Lion had taken them out of the world they recognized and into a vast, abstract space, where they were surrounded by patterns and swirls of pastel-colored light.

 _What on Earth has Steven gotten me into- WHOA!_

Ronnie Anne's thought process was interrupted when Lion's speed ramped up from "brisk" to "breakneck", as he flew through the space with his paws outstretched. The sudden shift caused Steven to lose his seating on Lion's back, forcing him to cling tighter to his mane for dear life - and, subsequently, forcing Ronnie Anne to cling tighter to him.

Before long, their journey through the portal was complete. A portal identical to the one Lion belched out appeared dead ahead, which he dove into without hesitation. Once he did, the abstract world gave way to a physical one, and Lion dug his paws into the newly formed floor, skidding to a stop. Ronnie Anne took a moment to let her eyes readjust themselves before taking a tentative glance around the room. They now found themselves in a dank, moist cavern, with a floor flooded by an inch or two of water. In the center of the room was an enormous, marble-like elevated platform, with a flight of stairs carved into the side - like the warp pad Ronnie Anne saw at the temple, but much, _much_ larger.

Just then, Lion plopped his butt down, sending Steven and Ronnie Anne sliding off his back and plummeting onto the waterlogged floor. While picking herself up, Ronnie Anne cringed at the sensation of the water soaking her jeans and seeping into her shoes.

"Where are we?" she had to ask.

"I don't know!" cried Steven. "He's never done this before. Are you okay?"

"I'm fine, I'm fine. Let's just figure this out."

She looked around for Lion, and noticed that he was trotting up the stairs to the top of the platform. Once there, he gazed down and the two children and growled.

"I think he wants us to follow him," said Steven.

Seeing no other logical course of action, the two of them walked up the stairs to meet the beast. By the time they reached the top, Lion was seated in the middle of the platform, with his eyes focused on some peculiar hole in the center.

"Has he ever done this kind of thing before?" asked Ronnie Anne. As she spoke, her voice echoed throughout the massive, spacious cavern.

"No, this is new," said Steven. "You know, it's times like these that I _really_ wish Lion could ta-"

The young boy's sentence was suddenly interrupted by a deep humming sound coming from the platform. Looking down, Ronnie Anne saw that the floor below them was now glowing hot pink - similar to the shade of Lion's fur. The rose-tinted glow lingered for barely more than a second before retreating into the hole in the center, as if it were being sucked down a drain. A moment later, a pillar of light burst forth from the hole, emitting a staticky crackle as it did.

Ronnie Anne had no idea what to make of that; for all she knew, she and Steven had just triggered a security alarm. What's more, she knew that Steven wasn't any more familiar with this place than she was, so she didn't have the option of asking him for help. On the other hand, there _was_ someone with them who seemed to know where they were - and at the moment, he was sitting expectantly by the light pillar, staring at her. Ronnie Anne guessed that he wanted her to come closer, and she wasn't one to argue with a lion. Thus, she swallowed her fears and shuffled closer to the center, making sure to stay close to Steven (but not _too_ close).

As they approached, the light dissipated and shrunk back into the hole. In its place, a glowing stone column with a base shaped like a human hand rose up from the center. After rising to a height of about three feet, it stopped and locked itself in place.

"I... I'm guessing you have to put your hand there?" Ronnie Anne said, with an upward inflection suggesting that she had no confidence in her guess.

"Sounds reasonable," Steven said with a shrug. "Why don't you try it first?"

Ronnie Anne shook her head. "You're the magical gem kid, Steven. It probably won't do anything if I-"

"You're not scared, are you?"

Ronnie Anne gasped, appalled by such an insinuation. From Steven's tone, she couldn't quite tell if he was trying to tease her. "What do you mean, _scared_?! Why would I be scared to put my hand on a stupid panel?!"

Steven gave off a nervous chuckle. "Okay, calm down, Ronnie Anne. I was just-"

Steven was interrupted when Ronnie Anne marched up to the platform and slapped her hand on it several times. The thwap of her hand smacking the stone echoed throughout the chamber.

"There, see? Nothing. Now you do it!"

"All right, all right!" cried Steven. "Geez, you don't have to shout at me!"

Steven lifted his hand and placed it down onto the column. A moment later, the low humming noise came back, and the column started glowing pink. The glow spread out across the floor until it engulfed the entire platform, illuminating the room. The glow of the platform illuminated the surrounding cave, and Ronnie Anne could see that it was even vaster than she thought before; the watery floor below the platform expanded out at least fifty feet in each direction, and she spied holes in the cave wall that lead to other rooms and stalactite-lined corridors.

"Wha... what did I do?" Steven wondered out loud.

"I don't know, but you did _something_ ," said Ronnie Anne. She looked over at Lion, hoping that his facial expression or body language would give them some clue as to what to do next. Alas, no such luck: the beast just sat on his haunches, staring blankly at them.

"Try using your other hand," she said, spouting off the first idea that came to her head.

Steven, figuring that it was worth a shot, tried to withdraw his hand from the tablet... only to find that it wouldn't budge. He tugged harder, but the hand remained bound in place.

"Wha- I'm stuck!"

Steven grabbed his left arm with his free hand and pulled on it with all his might, grunting from the strain, but his efforts produced no success.

"Stuck?!" cried Ronnie Anne. "What do you mean, you're stuck?!"

The tomboy wrapped both her hands around Steven's thick forearm and tried to pry it off herself, but it was no use. The only thing she managed to pull back to any degree was Steven's skin, causing him more than a little pain. After a yelp of pain clued her into that fact, she let go of his arm and backed away.

"Sorry, sorry," she muttered. "Let's just take a moment and try to figure something out."

The two children proceeded to do just that, standing in silence as they mulled over the situation. Ronnie Anne had no idea how the tablet could have locked Steven's hand in place, but that wasn't important. The important point was that, for whatever reason, the mechanism only responded to Steven's touch - so, she reasoned, only he could activate the command to release him. But how? It'd have to be an action he could perform...

...locked in place.

With only one free hand.

Completely helpless.

A mischievous grin spread across Ronnie Anne's face, as a devilish thought came to her and superseded everything else in her mind.

"Hey, Steven!" she said, scarcely able to hide her merriment.

"What? You've got an idea?"

"...yeah, something like that. Face forward."

Steven complied, turning his head until his face was perpendicular to hers. Before he could even begin to suspect what she was plotting, she put her pointer finger in her mouth, gave it a thorough lathering with her tongue and lips, and jammed it into Steven's ear.

"Wet willy!"

Steven yelped in shock and tried to pull away from her, only to find himself restrained by his immobilized hand. Ronnie Anne pulled out her finger and collapsed into a fit of cackling, doubling over in laughter and slapping herself on the knee.

"What was that for?!" cried Steven. "You think it's funny to... to..."

Both Steven and Ronnie Anne clammed up when their ears picked up a rumbling sound coming from underneath the platform - gears shifting, bolts unlocking and metal clashing with metal. A portion of the floor in front of them opened up, and from the opening rose a silver, medieval-style suit of armor, resting upon a miniature panel. A suit of black samurai armor rose up to claim the spot beside the first, which was then followed by another, and then another, until the two of them were surrounded by suits of varying size, color, shape and design.

"Good gravy..." Ronnie Anne said in a breathy whisper. "Steven, how on earth did you do that?"

"I-I don't think it was me," said Steven. "I think it was _you_."

Ronnie Anne's eyebrows jumped, as she was a little taken aback by the idea that _she_ of all people triggered something. On further reflection, though, she recalled that nothing happened until she gave Steven that wet willy. Originally, she was sure that the tablet was some kind of control panel, but... maybe _he_ was the control panel.

Apparently, he had the same idea, because her thought process was interrupted by a cry of, "Try something else! Try something else!"

Ronnie Anne smirked, grateful for the opportunity to mess with Steven's body again - with his consent, no less. She walked up to him, grabbed a handful of his cheek and pinched it (which she'd always wanted to do ever since the first time she saw him). As soon as she did, the suits of armor sank back into the floor, and the gaps they left behind sealed shut.

Then, a larger gap closer to the center opened up, and from it rose a large cylinder, glowing the same shade of pink as the platform they were standing on. Unlike the armor, however, the cylinder didn't seem to be supported by any panel; instead, it floated out of the gap on its own, stopping about two feet above the platform and levitating in place. The cylinder opened up with a _click_ and unraveled itself, revealing its contents. A variety of axes, halberds and lances floated out of the cylinder and arranged themselves into a single-file line, putting themselves on display.

"Cool!" Ronnie Anne blurted out, taken off guard by the reveal of such an ornate and powerful-looking arsenal. She took off towards the axes, eager to pick one to call her own.

"Ronnie Anne, wait!" cried Steven. "I don't think you're supposed to touch those!"

Shortly after he said that, the axes filed themselves back into the cylinder, which locked itself shut and sank back into the floor. Upon seeing the weaponry slip away from her grasp, Ronnie Anne swerved around to face Steven, bearing an annoyed-looking scowl.

"What gives?! I was just gonna look at 'em!"

"I'm sorry! I don't even know how I did that!"

Ronnie Anne rolled her eyes and trudged back to Steven's side. "Whatever. Let's just try something else."

Ronnie Anne proceeded to experiment with different ways to pinch, poke and prod Steven, with each motion revealing something new - a row of cannons, a statue with spiked flails attached to its arms, and most bafflingly, a giant penny. Though she was mesmerized by the armory at first, eventually Ronnie Anne started go grow restless. Before long, they ran out of different items to summon, and they started cycling through the same objects over and over again. It didn't help that Steven told her not to touch anything they found, out of fear that they might get in trouble if she did. Once they saw the giant penny for the third or fourth time, Ronnie Anne had had enough.

"Okay, this is getting boring. What does Lion even expect us to do? Pick up the penny and go buy it lunch?"

Steven chuckled at the remark. "I hear you, Ronnie Anne, but I don't think we can leave until I get my hand unstuck."

Ronnie Anne groaned. "Well, we have to figure _something_ out. I wanna _do_ something. Don't you?"

"To be honest, yeah," said Steven, scratching the back of his head. "Like, this stuff is kinda cool, but I'm getting pretty antsy. I wanna see some action."

As soon as he finished that sentence, the glow of the platform went out, and the hand-shaped column released Steven and retracted itself back into the floor. Before Ronnie Anne even had a chance to feel relieved that Steven was free, a large, circular gap in the platform opened up, exposing a blinding light from beneath. From the gap rose a massive. cylindrical... _thing_.

At eight feet tall (not including the four feet above the ground it hovered) it towered over the two children. It was shaped like a cup, with a wide brim that slightly tapered off toward the base. A bed of tan, jewel-like spikes jutted out from the top, and below the brim were two hollow thick-lined circles with oval-shaped dots inside, looking like a pair of frog's eyes. The bottom half of it was lined with four large, gaping holes, equidistant from each other. One of them was positioned right below the object's "eyes", making it look like a mouth that was locked open in a grim howl.

"Um... S-Steven?" uttered Ronnie Anne, unable to hide her nervousness. "P-please tell me you know what that is."

"I'm afraid not," Steven said with a hint of worry in his own voice. "But who knows? Maybe it's friendly!"

Steven's words did little to ease her fears - especially in light of what happened next. The two of them were surrounded by the rough, piercing sound of marble scraping against marble as several huge, spike-shaped protrusions jutted out from the floor. Ronnie Anne's eyes darted around the room in search of Lion, in the hopes that he would be primed to protect them from whatever was coming. To her chagrin, he was sprawled out near the edge of the platform, taking a nap.

 _Seriously?_

She was somewhat inclined to go over and wake him up, but she reasoned that he'd be waking up soon enough if they were in any real danger. Besides, she wasn't quite enthralled by the prospect of facing the wrath of a cranky lion.

"Well, hey, Lion doesn't seem to be worried!" quipped Steven. "So maybe-"

He was interrupted when the object started to generate a low, eerie hum and emitted a blinding white light that shone through its head, eyes and mouth. The bottom half of the object whirled itself around like a carousel before locking itself in place. Once it did, the object's glow changed from white to yellow, and bolts of lightning started streaking out of its mouth-hole, buzzing and crackling.

"RUN!" yelled Steven, taking off in a mad dash away from the object.

 _You don't have to tell me twice!_ thought Ronnie Anne as she bolted away in a different direction. The object spewed out a ball of orange-yellow plasma that struck the floor with a bang, just barely missing the two children.

Ronnie Anne took cover behind one of the protrusions, and gave herself a moment to lean against it and catch her breath. At this point, sweat was pouring out of Ronnie Anne's copper skin, and her heart was battering her ribcage. _What has Steven gotten me into?!_

A peek from behind the spike revealed that the object's glow had changed color once again, from yellow to blue. It hovered towards Steven, stalking the boy and waiting for just the right moment to fire.

"Steven, watch out!"

Steven, heeding her warning, dove out of the robot's path just before it launched another projectile. A sky blue ball of plasma collided with the floor beside Steven, coating the point of impact with a thin layer of ice.

 _First lightning, now ice?_ There was no telling what else that machine was packing in its arsenal. She huddled behind the barrier, priming herself to make a run for it as soon as the robot discovered her location. As she listened for any sign of the robot approaching, it dawned on her just how powerless she really was. She got so defensive and testy when Pearl said she wouldn't be able to handle Steven's missions, and now she was proving that Pearl's fears were well-founded. Her face scrunched up into a bitter scowl as she imagined Pearl sighing and tut-tutting her for deluding herself into thinking that she was capable.

 _"I told you these missions were too dangerous for you. Humans are so arrogant and short-sighted."_

No. Screw that. Ronnie Anne wasn't going to take that kind of condescension. No way, no how.

With a fire, ignited in her heart, Ronnie Anne gripped the top of the barrier and peered over it, waiting for the robot to draw closer.

 _I'll show you just what a human can do._


	10. Ronnie Anne the Brawler

Chapter 10: Ronnie Anne the Brawler

As soon as the robot drew near, Ronnie Anne spied her opportunity. She took off in a sprint away from the barrier, u-turned back towards it, and right when she got close, she grabbed the edge of the barrier and pushed herself up onto it. This got the robot's attention, prompting it to swing towards her and aim one of its mouth cannons directly at her face. On instinct, she crouched down and pushed herself off into another jump, sending herself in an arcing path across the room and landing in a straddle position atop one of the cannons.

 _Sheesh. That would've been_ _really_ _painful if I wasn't a girl._

The robot just sputtered about in confusion, having lost sight of its target but lacking the capacity to recognize that she was right on top of it. Ronnie Anne was quick to capitalize on that moment; she turned herself around, balled her hands into fists, and started hammering as hard as she could at the cannon below her.

"Ronnie Anne, what are you doing?!" she heard Steven cry from afar. "Get down from there!"

But she paid him no heed, and continued to pound away, even as her fists started to grow sore and her skin started to peel and bruise from the impact. To her surprise, she actually felt the metal of the appendage start to bend and give way to her blows, which emboldened her to continue. Her assault was stopped short, however, when the robot spied Steven again and swerved towards him, bucking her off and sending her crashing down onto the floor below. A sharp _crack_ echoed throughout the room as her knee collided with the floor, sending rigid shockwaves of pain up and down her leg. One glance down at the point of impact revealed blood seeping out of her knee and dribbling onto the platform. She grimaced, hissed and clasped her hand over the wound, desperate to keep herself from bleeding too much.

The next thing she knew, she felt two meaty hands hoisting her off the ground and holding her aloft. "Come on, let's bolt!" cried Steven, carrying her over towards Lion, who had just recently gotten up from his nap. Without so much as a grunt of effort, he hefted her onto Lion's back, and climbed atop in front of her. Ronnie Anne, doing her best to ignore the stinging pain in her knee, locked her hands around Steven's waist and hugged him tight, Lion reared back, let out a mighty roar and sprinted forward, belching out a portal of the same size and shape as the one that brought them to the cave.

Lion leaped into the portal, which took them through the same multicolored pathway that they went through earlier, before spitting them out onto the Beach City shore. Through sheer exhaustion, Ronnie Anne lost her grip on Steven, toppled off of Lion's back and fell butt-first onto the sand.

"Boy, was that close," Steven said with a deep exhale as he dismounted from Lion. "Gotta admit, it was pretty cool how you attacked that robot. But..."

His tone hardened as he approached Ronnie Anne, who was rocking back and forth on the dune, clutching her wounded knee and hissing. "...but you have to be a little more careful," he said. "You could've really gotten yourself hurt."

Ronnie Anne's cheeks burned with shame at having Steven chide her. She couldn't exactly argue with him, with the splotch of fresh blood seeping out of her knee serving as proof of how reckless she had been. She hadn't even _intended_ on going on a mission with Steven that day, and she still managed to get herself hurt. Maybe Pearl was right to doubt her.

Steven crouched down to meet Ronnie Anne at eye level, and his hands started to drift towards Ronnie Anne's injured knee. "Here, lemme help you with that," he said, gently grasping Ronnie Anne's hands and guiding them away. Ronnie Anne, knowing that Steven was too strong for her to resist him even if she wanted to, decided to accept his help... though she probably wouldn't have if she knew what he was going to do next. With a concerning level of nonchalance, he licked his pointer finger and rubbed it back and forth across the affected area. Ronnie Anne, cringing from the sensation of Steven's saliva against her skin, kicked him in the chest and jerked away from him.

"What the heck was that?!" she yelled, swiping her fingers across her knee in an attempt to wipe it dry. "You mind explaining to me why you just decided to rub a loogie on my knee?!"

"I was trying to clean the dirt off!" cried Steven. "Do you want it to get infected?!"

"No, but it'd beat having _you_ slobbering all over my... my..."

Ronnie Anne's rant tapered off once she noticed that the pain in her knee was starting to fade. A glance down at her knee revealed that the gash was closing up, as a new layer of skin was growing over it. In just a few seconds, it looked good as new - aside from the bloodstain left behind, that is. Ronnie Anne gave her leg a tentative shake, and found that her pain had disappeared completely.

"I... you... how did you do that?"

"I-I don't know," said Steven. "The gems told me that my mom had healing powers, but- RONNIE ANNE, LOOK OUT!"

Steven pointed in the direction of the ocean's shoreline. To their horror, they saw a portal opening up, similar to the one summoned by Lion. Out from the portal emerged their robot attacker, now with eyes flashing a furious shade of red. Lion leaped in front of the two children and stood his ground, growling at the attacker.

The robot, undaunted by Lion's threat, tilted its head downwards and readied one of its cannons - the one that Ronnie Anne had attacked earlier, if the sizable dent was any indication. Its eyes turned from red to blue as it fired off a ball of ice-spreading plasma...

...or tried to, at least. Thanks to the damage done by Ronnie Anne, its mouth-hole was now a tad too narrow for the projectile to exit, and it detonated before clearing the end of the barrel. In an instant, the robot's face was coated with a layer of ice, and it could do little but sputter and jiggle around erratically.

 _I... did I do that?_ thought Ronnie Anne, as her heartbeat started to decelerate back to a normal pace.

A second later, a shrill cry of, "STEVEN!" came from the other side of the beach. Ronnie Anne turned her head to see Pearl sprinting across the dune to meet them, with Garnet and Amethyst flanking her.

"Steven, what on earth is that?!" cried Pearl.

"I don't know! Lion took us to this weird cavern, and then it started attacking us, and-"

"Say no more," said Amethyst, assuming a battle stance. The purple gem in her chest started to exude a blinding white light, and she plunged her hand into it as if it were an open doorway. When she withdrew her hand, she was clutching a thick, jewel-studded, three-tailed whip, with arrow-shaped gemstones at the end of each lash. Without a moment's hesitation, she swung the whip forward, entwined the robot in her whip's leathery coils, and yanked it downward as hard as she could. The robot hit the beach with a bang, as its ice-coated surface shattered upon impact, sending sand, debris and ice flying every which way. As soon as the deed was done, the whip vanished into thin air.

"Thank you, Amethyst," said Garnet, brushing sand off of her face as she approached the two children.

"Y-yeah," said Ronnie Anne. "I guess we owe you one."

"Nah, no need to thank me," Amethyst said with a smirk and a shrug. "It's what I do."

"Well, 'what you do' is going to get you into trouble one of these days," Pearl said pointedly. "Hopefully, we'll still be able to identify who- or _what_ \- just attacked Steven and Ronnie Anne."

Pearl took cautious steps towards the downed automaton. "I'm quite certain that this isn't a corrupted gem," she said, "but then what could it-"

Her thought process was interrupted by a horrified gasp - courtesy of herself. "Wait a second!" she cried. "This is... this is the training robot from Rose's secret armory!"

She swung her head around to face Steven, giving him a wide-eyed, aghast look. "Why would Lion take you to the Armory?!"

"What makes you think I'd know?!" cried Steven, throwing up his hands. "I told him that he could take us anywhere, and he... and he..."

"Inside," Pearl demanded, pointing across the beach towards the temple. "You and I have a lot to talk about. And I'd appreciate it if you were a bit more careful about where you take Ronnie Anne."

Ronnie Anne winced. She feared that she would get some form of condescension from Pearl, but it stung nonetheless. What was supposed to be a casual day of fun turned into a humbling reminder that she was nowhere near ready to join Steven in his adventures. Steven, noticing Ronnie Anne's pained expression, gave her a sympathetic glance before turning back towards Pearl.

"But she helped!" he cried, prompting a couple of raised eyebrows from Ronnie Anne and a double take from Pearl.

"I beg your pardon?" Pearl asked.

"She helped fight the robot!" he said, cracking an excited smile. "She jumped on top of it and banged up one of its cannons! You should've seen it!"

"Oh, my," said Pearl, as she placed a hand over her gaping mouth. "Ronnie Anne, is this true?"

Before she knew it, all three of the Crystal Gems had their eyes focused on her, each of them awaiting her answer with bated breath. The sight of those fantastical beings looking at _her_ in awe caused her heart to swell with confidence, erasing all traces of timidity.

"You bet it is!" she declared, slapping her fist into the palm of her hand. "Busted it up real good!"

"That's my _girl_!" Amethyst hollered with a pump of her fist. "Ron-nie Anne! Ron-nie Anne! Whoop whoop!"

Hearing Amethyst hype her up caused Ronnie Anne's smile to stretch into an ear-to-ear grin. In a fit of joy, she ran over to Amethyst and high-fived her so hard that her hand stung for a few seconds afterwards.

"Yes, we're all quite impressed by your feat today, Ronnie Anne," Pearl said. Ronnie Anne's smile shrank a little, as she could sense the incoming "but..." from a mile away.

Sure enough, the next thing to come out of her mouth was that dreaded b-word. "But..."

"I'll handle this," interrupted Garnet, walking over towards Ronnie Anne. Before she knew it, Garnet was upon her, towering over her and gazing down into her eyes.

"As Pearl said, we're all impressed by your performance today," she said, bearing a faint but noticeable smile. "You've shown courage and power far beyond what we'd expect from a human child."

She then crouched down to meet Ronnie Anne at eye level, and lay one of her large hands across Ronnie Anne's shoulder. "But _I_ think we can make you even better," she said. "If you're up to the challenge, I can give you the training you need to fight alongside Steven. There's no telling what kind of danger you'll fall into next, and I want you to be ready the next time you do."

Ronnie Anne's face lit up; until this point, she had resigned herself to the idea that she would never get a chance to become one of the Crystal Gems, and now an opportunity was presenting itself to her on a silver platter. She was a little hesitant to answer, though, as Garnet had quite the imposing presence and the idea of having her as a teacher was a bit intimidating. Truth be told, she thought she'd be more at ease being taught by Amethyst.

But beggars couldn't be choosers, so she decided to take the offer as it was. "I'll do it!" she announced, beaming at Garnet.

Steven, overcome with joy, ran up to Ronnie Anne and lifted her into a tight bearhug. "You're gonna do _great_!" he squealed. "I can't wait to have you on the team!"

"T-thanks," uttered Ronnie Anne, squirming around in his grip. "J-just put me down, please."

Steven let out a sheepish giggle and dropped her on the dune. "Sorry 'bout that. I'm just excited for you, y'know?"

"I know, I know," she said, picking herself up. "Trust me, I am too. I can't wait to get started!"

Garnet gave her an appreciative nod. "Meet me at the temple tomorrow at 2:00. I'm sure you won't disappoint."

Pearl cast a worried glance in Garnet's direction. "Garnet, are you sure about this? Training someone so young?"

"I'm sure," said Garnet. "Let's not forget that _you_ were only a thousand years old when you became a Crystal Gem."

Pearl's gaze drifted towards the ground. "That's true," she admitted.

"You needn't worry about us. I have absolute confidence that Ronnie Anne will make a splendid student."

Ronnie Anne's heart skipped a beat at Garnet's appraisal. She had never thought of herself as a fighter - a tough girl, sure, but not a combatant - so it flattered her to hear someone speak of her potential in such glowing terms.

"I suppose I should trust your judgment," said Pearl. "But for now," she added, taking Steven by the hand, "we have other matters to address. I'm quite certain that Lion didn't take them to the armory by accident."

With that, the five of them - Garnet, Amethyst, Pearl, Steven and Lion - began the trek home. Steven gave Ronnie Anne one last wave goodbye before Pearl guided him away.

Meanwhile, Ronnie Anne began to make her own way home, feeling so elated and anxious that she could hardly breathe. For the rest of the day, she'd daydream about all the trials and tribulations that were awaiting her at the Temple, and her upcoming evolution from a scrappy little girl into a bonafide warrior.

As she walked across the shore, she heard one last outburst from Pearl before the group was out of earshot:

"What do you mean, you have healing _spit_?!"


	11. A Well-Needed Break

As planned, Ronnie Anne headed over to the Royal Woods Park around noon to meet Lincoln for the date. As she approached the fountain, her ears picked up the faint sound of the goggles rattling around in her backpack; she cringed, hoping that she wasn't damaging them in any way.

She did her best to put last night's adventure out of her mind, since she arranged this date as a way of giving herself a break from the alternate timeline, and letting the timeline dominate her conversation with Lincoln would sort of defeat the purpose. Even so, that was easier said than done, given that said adventure involved a pink lion and a killer robot.

Upon seeing Lincoln standing by the fountain, she rushed over, forcing him to the forefront of her mind. _Just focus on Lincoln_ , she thought. _This day's about him, not Steven._

The two of them greeted each other with a hug, and proceeded to scout out a spot on the grass for their picnic lunch. As they looked around, Ronnie Anne took a deep breath in, savoring the crisp autumn air. She found the park's temperate, breezy environment to be a welcome change of pace from the hot, sandy climate of Beach City.

Before long, they found a comfortable spot underneath the shade of an elm tree, and laid out their blanket, ready to dig in. Ronnie Anne had brought a few tinfoil-wrapped tamales with some guacamole on the side, courtesy of her mother, while Lincoln had brought a peanut butter and sauerkraut sandwich, courtesy of... himself.

"Seriously?" asked Ronnie Anne, squirming in disgust. "You complain about the school lunch, and _that's_ what you decide to eat when you have a choice?"

Lincoln shrugged. "Well, peanut butter's a healthy fat, and sauerkraut has a lot of vitamins in it. Plus, I always use whole wheat bread."

"I didn't say it wasn't healthy, Lame-O. I said it was gross."

"To each their own," he said, capping off his statement by taking a sip of water with his pinky outstretched. "So how are things with Bobby?"

"Bobby? He's... uh..."

Ronnie Anne took another bite of her tamale to give herself some time to think. It occurred to her that her interactions with Bobby had been pretty limited over the past week - thanks in no small part to the goggles.

"...he's good," she said after swallowing. "Looking for colleges, staying up all night on the phone with Lori. That sort of thing."

Lincoln chuckled. "They're just precious, aren't they?"

"To _die_ for," Ronnie Anne said, in a playful imitation of the Queen's English. "Real talk, though: if I'm ever that cute, smother me in my sleep."

The two of them rambled on for a while more, but after a while, Ronnie Anne's attention started to drift back towards Lincoln's sandwich, and her feelings of disgust overwhelmed her.

"I'm sorry, I just can't sit by and watch you eat that," she said, handing him one of her tamales. "Here. This is what _real_ food tastes like."

"Oh, uh, thanks," said Lincoln, as he took the tamale from her and took a bite. A smile broke out across his face soon after he swallowed.

"Oh, hey! This is actually pretty goo..."

But Lincoln couldn't even finish his sentence before his smile started to falter, and beads of sweat started to accumulate on his brow. Ronnie Anne gave him a worried look.

"Lincoln, are you okay?"

A tinge of read spread across Lincoln's cheeks, and spread out across the rest of his face, as his breathing accelerated. Ronnie Anne had failed to mention that Maria liked to spice up her tamales with an extra kick - or two or three. She and Bobby were used to that sort of flavor; Lincoln, on the other hand...

"I... I... uh..."

Before he could even manage to formulate a response, he grabbed his bottle of water and started chugging it, splattering his face with water in the process. He downed half the bottle before finally setting it back down, panting and gasping and wiping residue off his lips. Ronnie Anne just giggled and rolled her eyes.

"White people..." she muttered under her breath.

After Lincoln cooled down and the two of them finished their lunch, they decided to take out Ronnie Anne's frisbee and toss it around for a little while. Lincoln was surprisingly adept at catching, no doubt a product of his home environment; it wasn't easy to get by in the Loud House if you didn't have good reflexes. His throws, on the other hand, left a lot to be desired, as Ronnie Anne found out when his first attempt wobbled a bit in the air before dropping to the ground a good three feet from where Ronnie Anne was standing.

"Been a while, hasn't it, Lame-O?" Ronnie Anne asked with a giggle. "Here, let me help you."

She walked towards Lincoln, picked up the frisbee and handed it off to him. She then repositioned herself next to him and grabbed hold of his right hand, pushing his fingers into the proper throwing position.

"You're gonna want to keep your four fingers under the disc, and your thumb on top," she said. Lincoln nodded and slid the frisbee into his right hand, gripping it tight.

"Then you wind up, swing your arm forward, and flick the wrist. Like thi..."

* * *

 _"And then, to throw it, you just sort of whip your wrist forward. Like this!"_

* * *

Ronnie Anne's heart fluttered as she suddenly flashed back to her fateful meeting with Steven on the beach.

"Uh... uh... buh..."

The flashback sent her into a trance-like state, disallowing her from finishing her sentence and bemusing Lincoln.

"You okay, Ronnie Anne?" he asked.

She shook her head back and forth, snapping herself out of her daze. "I-I'm fine," she said. "Just throw."

He did - and while the frisbee wobbled a bit mid-flight, it was a considerable improvement over the last time he tried. As the afternoon went on, Lincoln's form steadily got better. Ronnie Anne, on the other hand, saw a bit of a dip in her performance. After the flashback, her thoughts kept on getting hijacked by Steven - the meeting on the beach, the introduction to the Gems, the feeling of having her arms wrapped around him while they rode Lion - causing her to miss catches that she should have pulled off effortlessly. After about an hour, Lincoln decided to speak up again.

"Are you sure you're feeling all right?" he asked. "You seem a little distracted."

"It's nothing, I promise," said Ronnie Anne, as she drifted back towards the shade of the tree. "This is getting kinda boring, though. Let's take a rest."

Lincoln decided not to press the issue further, and complied, following her back towards the tree and picking a spot on the grass to lie down on. Still, he couldn't help but raise an eyebrow at Ronnie Anne's behavior. His suspicion was piqued even further after he lied down; a moment after he took a spot near Ronnie Anne, she wrapped her arms around his waist and pulled him in, spooning him.

"H-hey! What's all this about?!"

Ronnie Anne took her sweet time coming up with a response. After taking a few seconds to tighten her squeeze and rest her cheek against his shoulder, she said the following:

"I'm tired and you're comfy."

 _Can't argue with that, I guess_ , Lincoln thought as he wriggled into a more comfortable position. As odd as he found her behavior, he couldn't complain, since he rather enjoyed the feeling of having her arms wrapped snug around his middle. He spent a good long while resting in her warm clutches, letting her soft breath caress the nape of his neck. He dared not ask any questions, out of fear that he'd kill the moment.

By the time the clock struck three, though, he started to get a little antsy.

"Hey, Ronnie Anne? I think we oughta be getting home."

He started to get up, only for her to clamp a hand over his arm and force him back down.

"Wait, wait, wait!" she said. "Don't get up. I wanna try something."

Lincoln was a bit befuddled, but honored her request and stayed put. He waited patiently as she picked herself up off the ground and gathered up all of their belongings. Then, he felt her slip her hands underneath his back and legs, and his heart skipped a beat as he felt himself getting hoisted into the air.

"Whoa!" he yelped, flailing about in her grip for a second or two. After the shock wore off and he caught his breath, he looked up to see Ronnie Anne smirking at him as she held him aloft. If she was having any trouble holding him, she didn't show it.

"Gosh, you're strong," he said with a nervous giggle.

"Nah, you're just light," she said. "Now, come on. Let's get you home."

 _Gee, I can't even remember the last time someone carried me like this,_ he thought. _It feels nice, though. Really nice..._

In fact, as they exited the park, Lincoln felt so warm and comfortable in her arms that he started to drift off to sleep. With every step, his eyelids grew heavier and heavier, and the vibrant scenery around him started to fade. Just before he fell under, the last thing he felt was her lips pressed up against his cheek.

He woke up some indeterminate amount of time later in a lovesick daze, laid out on his bed with the goggles on his nightstand next to him. He intended to use them that night, but for now he was content to sit back and let the feeling of satisfaction wash over him.

 _What a day,_ he thought. _What a girl_.

* * *

 **Author's Note: Sorry for the long delay! I'm going to try to update this semi-regularly from this point on.**


	12. Fusion Cuisine

_6:15 p.m._

 _October 11_

 _Jean Juan's French-Mexican Buffet_

The Louds and the Maheswarans had agreed to meet at the restaurant around 6:30. At Lincoln's behest, however, the Louds arrived just a tad earlier. The reason Lincoln gave was that he wanted the Maheswarans to know that they were respectful and punctual; the real reason, however, was that he wanted a few minutes to collect his thoughts and steel himself for the night to come.

As they waited, Lincoln fidgeted with the sleeves of the hand-knitted maroon sweater that he had decided to wear that night. Although Jean Juan's didn't have a strict dress code, he took it upon himself to look "nice" for the occasion, and he assumed that the Maheswarans would do the same.

"Are you nervous, sweetie?" asked Rita, who lay a gentle hand upon Lincoln's shoulder.

"A little," said Lincoln, as he twiddled his fingers and cast his gaze downward.

"Oh, Lincoln, it'll be okay. I'm sure we'll get along just fine."

A minute or so later, three figures emerged from the entrance. The first was a sharp-featured, stern-eyed woman in a blue blouse and beige slacks. As she entered, her eyes scanned the room top to bottom. Then came a glasses-wearing man with a similar complexion and dress style, though he was considerably less stone-faced than the lady was. ON this evening, he had opted for a button-down shirt and tie. Finally, Lincoln spied a small, timid figure peeking out from behind the first two, which he recognized as Connie.

"Is that them, Lincoln?" asked Lynn Sr.

Lincoln grunted in the affirmative.

Once he got the confirmation, Lynn Sr. called out to them - just loud enough to be heard over the din of the restaurant. The older Maheswarans spotted him and walked Connie over to the table, with the mother gently leading her daughter by the arm. Lincoln popped his head up and put on his friendliest face as their three guests took their seats.

"Hi, Connie!" he said. "Hi, Mr. and Mrs... Mahasa...Maha-"

"Maheswaran," said the mother.

"Yeah, Maheswaran. Right."

"And it's _Doctor_ , actually," she added - not angrily, but firmly enough to give Lincoln pangs of shame.

"Got it," he muttered, cringing. "Sorry." Though it wasn't that big of a deal, Lincoln thought of himself as more "woke" than most boys his age, by virtue of growing up surrounded by girls - so he couldn't help but kick himself for assuming that Connie's mother preferred the "Mrs." honorific.

"Quite all right," said the mother. "I'm Priyanka, and this is my husband, Doug."

"Nice to meet you!" said Rita. "I'm Rita, and this is Lynn."

"Namaste!" Lynn said with a sunny, oblivious smile.

Both Rita and Lincoln cringed, which only intensified once they caught a glimpse of the Maheswarans' faces. The three of them, especially Priyanka, looked thoroughly unimpressed.

 _"Namaste"? Seriously, Dad?_

Lincoln feared that his notoriously dorky father would make things awkward at some point, but he was hoping that it wouldn't happen this early on; he could only hope that it wouldn't be a recurring trend throughout the dinner.

Fortunately, the uncomfortable silence was broken by the arrival of the waiter.

"Is everyone ready to order?"

"NO!" Lincoln blurted out. "I-I mean, not quite yet," he added, catching himself and lowering his voice. "Our guests just got here."

"Very well."

With that, the waiter took his leave. Lynn Sr., eager to rebound from his social gaffe, tried to kick off a conversation.

"So tell me a little about yourselves! What brought you to Royal Woods?"

Priyanka straightened her blouse and brushed her hair out of her eyes before responding. "I was transferred to a different hospital, so we had to move. I'm a surgeon."

"So that must be why they call you doctor," said Lincoln, hoping that they wouldn't notice how stupidly obvious that observation was.

To his relief, they didn't - or if they did, they didn't comment on it. Priyanka responded with a simple, "Indeed."

"How respectable!" said Rita. "I'm a dentist's assistant, myself."

"And I'm a chef at Aloha Comrade," said Lynn Sr. "It's this Hawaiian-Russian fusion restaurant a few blocks away from here."

Doug's eyebrows popped up for a moment. "Hawaiian-Russian? Geez, and I thought French-Mexican was unusual. What's next, Italian-Chinese?"

Lynn Sr. snorted with laughter. "Oh, funny you should say that. There's a place on the other side of town called Giovanni Chang's. Their wonton minestrone is pretty incredible."

Doug flinched from the revelation, as his bespectacled eyes popped out of their sockets. "Shut _up_. Are you serious?"

"And that's just the tip of the iceberg," Lynn Sr. said with pride. "Royal Woods is the number one spot for fusion cuisine in the country. It accounts for ninety percent of our tourism!"

Having recovered from the shock, Doug turned to his wife, beaming. "See, honey? I told you we would find something special about this town!"

A sliver of a smile snuck its way onto Priyanka's face. "Mm-hmm. When you're right, you're right."

"And by the way, it's aways nice to see a guy who likes to cook," said Doug, turning back to Lynn Sr. "Am I right, fellas?"

"Ha, you know it!" cheered Lynn Sr., as the two of them shared a high five.

Lincoln smiled, relieved that they were sailing in smoother waters after such a rocky start. However, he noticed that Connie had failed to say a word since she arrived; in fact, she could scarcely bring herself to make eye contact with anyone but him. Eager to coax her out of her shell, he tried to invite her to the conversation.

"So Connie, how've you been?" he asked. "I just finished the second Dogcopter book. Loved it."

Connie could barely get a syllable out before she was cut off by a groan from her mother.

"Are you still reading that drivel, Connie?" she asked. "I do wish you'd seek out more sophisticated fare. Lord knows you're bright enough for it."

"Oh, trust me, I know," said Lincoln, as he leaned into the table to make sure that both Priyanka and Connie had his attention. "She's helped me with my math a few times. She's really smart!"

This elicited a light blush and a giggle from Connie, which in turn triggered a twinge of satisfaction in Lincoln's heart. Sadly, the effects of his compliment faded as Priyanka continued to dominate the conversation.

"Exactly," she said. "So why waste such a gifted mind on such mindless pablum?"

"Oh, don't be like that, Priyanka," interjected Doug. "Let the kid read what she wants."

Priyanka rolled her eyes, but decided not to engage with her husband. Instead, she set her sights on the precocious little imp who had the courage to speak up to her - Lincoln.

"And what about you, Lincoln? What do _you_ read for pleasure?"

 _Uh oh..._

He swallowed hard, racking his brain for an answer. Although he was a good student, he wasn't exactly what you'd call bookish, and what he _did_ read for pleasure wasn't likely to impress anyone - especially not the Maheswarans.

"Well, Connie got me into-"

"Besides Dogcopter."

"Um..."

It then occurred to him that he'd read nearly every Ace Savvy comic cover-to-cover. His best bet was to name-drop them and hope that Priyanka wouldn't recognize the title.

"...Ace Savvy. I read a lot of Ace Savvy."

Priyanka expelled a quick burst of air through her nose. "Ah. Comic books."

 _Dang it._

Lincoln shrunk away from the table, figuring that his only option was to retreat back into his shell and quietly wait for the conversation to shift. But in a move that genuinely surprised him, Connie stepped in to advocate for him.

"Well, my librarian says that comics and graphic novels are a legitimate form of literature," she said. "In fact-"

But once again, her momentum was stopped by her mother, who responded with a haughty laugh. "Oh, please, Connie. Next you'll be telling me that video games have artistic merit!"

Lincoln, eager to repay the favor that Connie had just paid him, tried to step in to secure the rebound. "Actually, some people argue that-"

Connie let out a barely audible "psst" - just loud enough to get Lincoln's attention. Once they made eye contact, she gave her head a solemn shake back and forth.

"...never mind," he muttered.

Much to his relief, Priyanka decided to let his half-comment pass without rebuttal, and instead turned her attention to his parents. "Speaking of literature, what are _you_ reading right now... Rita, was it?"

"Yes, that's right," said Rita. "I'm actually between books right now. You don't really have a lot of time for pleasure reading when you're raising..."

Before she finished that sentence, she caught a glimpse of her nervous-looking son out of the corner of her eye, and took a moment to choose her words more carefully.

"...a family," she said. "But I _do_ love literature. I'm an aspiring writer, actually!"

"Interesting. What have you had published?"

Lincoln grimaced. This wasn't fair. _"What was the last thing you read?" "Have you ever been published?"_ It was as though Dr. Maheswaran was trying to scrutinize them for any possible flaws. Next she'd be asking to see their tax returns.

"Well, nothing yet," admitted Rita, "but I haven't given up. Every failure is a piece of future luck, right?"

She capped off her statement with a friendly smile, which Priyanka failed to return.

"So they say," she said flatly.

Just then, Connie stood up from the table. Lincoln flinched at the sharp, sudden sound of her chair scraping the hardwood floor.

"I... um... I have to go to the bathroom."

Before anyone could respond, she scurried away. A few seconds of uncomfortable silence ensued before Lynn Sr. took it upon himself to re-break the ice.

"By the way, I forgot to ask; what do _you_ do, Doug?"

"Oh, I'm a security guard at the Royal Woods Mall," said Doug. Started working there just a couple weeks ago, and so far..."

Just then, Lincoln felt his phone vibrating against his thigh. He discreetly withdrew it from his pocket and peeked at the screen. He found the following text from Connie displayed at the top:

 _I need to talk to_ _you_.

Lincoln gulped, fearing that either he or his parents committed some kind of horrible faux pas over the course of the conversation. Realizing that he had no choice but to face the music, he stood up to address the rest of the table.

"I have to use the bathroom, too. I'll be right back."

He excused himself from the table and slumped over to the restrooms, barely able to keep his head up. As expected, he saw Connie waiting for him right outside the door of the ladies' room. To his surprise, though, he found no trace of anger, annoyance or disappointment in her eyes - quite the contrary, in fact. The face she wore was eerily similar to the one she had on when she first introduced herself to Mrs. Johnson's class: one shaped by timidity, anxiety and just a hint of shame.

"Lincoln, I'm _really_ sorry," she said. "I should have warned you about this before, but my mom is really hard to impress. It's only because she wants what's best for me."

"Connie, it's not your fault," Lincoln said with a shake of his head. "Besides, it hasn't been all bad. Our dads are really hitting it off. Then again, my dad gets along with just about anyone."

Connie let out a tiny giggle, just strong enough to turn her frown upside down for a moment or two. "I've noticed."

As soon as he sensed that her defenses were lowered, Lincoln made his move. He took a step closer to her, putting them just a hair outside of kissing distance, and looked straight into her bespectacled eyes.

"More importantly," he said, "this doesn't change the way I feel about you. I still want to be your friend. You're really smart and nice and pretty..."

As soon as that last word came out of his mouth, he felt a twinge of panic, sensing that he had gone too far. Fortunately, his brain conjured up a way for him to save himself a split second later.

"...cool. You're pretty cool."

That seemed to mitigate the effect somewhat, as all he got from her in return was a smile and a bashful little shudder. "T-thanks. You're not too bad yourself."

After regaining her composure, she took him by the arm and started guiding him back towards the tables.

"Now, come on; let's get back before the waiter does. I don't want them to order without us."

Lincoln guffawed. "Have they done that before?"

"Well, no, but I wouldn't really put it past them," she said with a smirk.

After they returned to the table and made their orders, the table splintered off into two groups. The parents spent the rest of the night discussing jobs, relationships and the news - "adult" topics - while leaving Lincoln and Connie to their own devices. As the night went on, Connie grew less and less shy and more and more willing to volunteer information. It was almost enchanting how animated she allowed herself to get; a warm glow seemed to radiate from her being as she grew more comfortable within her own skin. Sometimes he would just forget to speak, content to just stare at her in a dazed trance. Most of the time, he would catch himself and snap out of it before she noticed. In one particular instance, however, it was _her_ words that snapped him out of his daze.

"By the way, have you started the shop homework yet?"

Lincoln blinked. "Oh, you mean the birdhouse? No, not yet. I really need to get started on that."

"Well, see, I've been having some trouble with it," she said. "I thought that maybe if you have time next Saturday, we could work on it together!"

A feeling of unease started to swell inside of Lincoln. "Um, where would we meet?"

"I was thinking your house. The school library'll be closed and my mom's gonna be having company over."

She leaned into the table, bearing a disarming smile. "So what do you say?"

"Um...er..." Lincoln stammered. The idea of having a girl over was nerve-wracking enough on its own, but the idea of Connie facing the Sisternado head-on was borderline nightmarish. He snatched his phone out of his pocket and called up his calendar app, desperate to see if there was any prior commitment he could use to excuse his way out of the commitment.

To his satisfaction, he _did_ see an event marked for next Saturday that helped him out of his jam - but not in the way he expected. According to his calendar, Rita would be taking his sisters out to the spa for an all-day trip. He'd have the whole house to himself with nary a chance of meddling.

"Sure!" he said, beaming. "Saturday's wide open for me. Let's meet!"

And with a handshake, Lincoln and Connie made the date official. Lincoln sighed internally, praising the fates for lining everything up in his favor. He knew that he couldn't keep Connie a secret from his sisters forever, but he assured himself that he'd cross that bridge when he came to it.

Before long, the meal had reached its conclusion. The two families split the check, left a generous tip and walked out, bidding each other a final farewell before splitting off.

"It was a pleasure getting to know you, Priyanka."

"Mm-hmm. I must admit, your latest novel has me intrigued. I'd love to see a copy of the manuscript."

"Have a good one, Lynn. One of these days I'm gonna check out that restaurant of yours!"

"You'd better. The pineapple stroganoff is _amazing_."

Lincoln, however, was having a bit more trouble putting a sentence together. He had always found Connie attractive, but he had never seen her like _this_ before, in the evening hours, illuminated by the glow of the city lights. The sight of Connie's long, flowing hair rippling in the autumn wind while her glasses glistened from the reflected moonlight was almost too much for him to process.

"Well- I guess this is- uh- I mean-"

Connie giggled. "See you next weekend."

She then lunged forward and put Lincoln in a tight hug, one that left her cheek grazing his for just the briefest moment. For the rest of the night, from the moment they parted ways to the moment he tucked himself in, that one spot on Lincoln's cheek wouldn't stop tingling.

 _She likes me._


End file.
